The Magic of the Panda
by Charlie Sparks
Summary: Yao finds himself face-to-face with the stuffed panda he's spent thirteen years of his life with; the panda standing silently as witness to everything that happened to him. Disbelieving and confused, he indulges to... Falling in love? R
1. Prologue

**The Magic of the Panda**

**A/N: **I'm a real big fan of RoChu, so... :) Okay, so I dunno what else to say... Hope you enjoy this! xD

Read and Review~

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Prologue

"Wake up! Wake up, Yao!"

"Huh? Yong Soo...?"

"Wake up, Yao-hyung! Come on, wake up alweady! It's your biwfday today, so wake up!" Yong Soo squealed as he jumped up and down their bed, causing the eldest brother to push himself up reluctantly just to make him calm down and stop.

"Yong Soo... Please stop rocking the bed, you're going to make me dizzy again," the middle brother uttered, rubbing his eyes as he, too, unwillingly sat up, saving himself from bouncing off of their bed. "You're more excited about Yao-nii's birthday than he is."

"Yeah, well, it isn't evewyday that we get to celebwate biwfdays, wight? So wake up!"

"Yes, yes! I'm awake already, aru! Could you _please_ stop shouting?"

"I wasn't shouting!" Yong Soo protested.

"Yes, you are, aru. See?" He pointed at the middle brother who nodded, "Kiku agrees."

"Okay, okay." Yong Soo frowned, but smiled as soon as he did, "now, let's open up your pwesents!"

"Shouldn't we let him decide for that?" Kiku asked, but was too late; Yong Soo already fetched Yao's presents from their parents' room and came back escorted by them. He laid out four colorfully-wrapped boxes of different sizes infront of his eldest brother.

"Open mine fiwst. It's that one, the gween one with the big, puwple wibbon," Yong Soo prodded. Yao reached for it and unwrapped it as instructed. "It's a snow globe," he added as his brother eyed it with a twinkle in his eye. "Omma and I bought it together when we were waiting for you and Kiku-hyung aftew school. But she said it counts as _my_ gift."

Yao was grateful for it, so he smiled and said, "it's nice, aru. Thank you, Yong Soo." Everyone returned his smile, especially Yong Soo, who wore a victorious grin on his face. Next, he reached for the white one, and unwrapped it like the first, revealing a magnificently made painting; a typical Japanese scene; one with a cherry blossom tree in full bloom, and a neat garden. Turning to Kiku, "you made this?"

The latter nodded, and smiled with an embarrassed blush. "Sorry if it isn't good enough."

"What are you talking about, aru? I like it. It's pretty. Thanks, Kiku." The middle brother nodded as acknowledgement. Yao then reached out for the smallest box, the blue one, and opened it up. It was a watch.

"You said you wanted one," his current father said, as if he weren't talking to a ten-year-old. "Hope you like it," he added with a grin.

Yao held it up to take a closer look. "This would be very useful. Thanks, aru," he uttered, giving back his current father's smile.

"Open this one next!" Yong Soo poked, pushing the remaining gift to his brother.

"I know, I know. That's the last one, of course I'm going to open it up next." He took it; it was the biggest gift there was, almost as big as the four-year-old Yong Soo. It was enveloped in red; it also had a red ribbon wrapped around it. Excitement somehow squeezed itself to Yao that he even held his breath while he was opening it. His eyes widened at the sight of the last present. "It's... It's a panda."

"That one's from me, Yao," his mother said, giving him a kiss on the forehead. Yao locked the stuffed animal in a tight embrace.

"Xie-xie ni, mama!"

He loved the panda the moment he saw it. It instantly became his favorite thing in the world. From that day on, he always took the panda wherever he went; always making it a point to keep it dry and clean no matter what happened. He never let anybody touch it but his mom, usually for cleaning purposes.

The panda stood witness to Yao's life.

And every night and every morning since then, right before Yao goes to sleep, and the moment he opens his eyes, he always gives the panda kisses.

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**A/N:** The end. Just kidding. That was just the start. Obviously. xD I wanted to point out Yong Soo's speech, I didn't change all r's to w's 'cause not every r is actually voiced out, or emphasized, so there. Hope I get a nice response for this... Hey, who doesn't like getting nice responses? xD

By the way, languages; what Yong Soo was saying, "*name here*-hyung," is what Koreans use to refer to their elder brothers (if you're a guy, that is, otherwise, if you're a girl, you call your elder brother "oppa"), then Omma, is "mom" in Korean. And, what Yao said at the end, "xie-xie ni, mama," means "thank you, mama," in Chinese. I'm not good with Korean, nor Chinese, though, I just asked a couple of friends...xD I do with Japanese. :D

Terribly sorry for the long author's note... But, hey, the thing you read up above was much more longer, right? :D I'll shut up now. xD


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Wakey wakey, Yao!"

"Huh? Yong Soo...?"

"Wake up, Yao-hyung! Or you'll be late for work!" Yong Soo greeted teasingly as he jumped up and down his brother's bed, causing Yao to push himself up reluctantly just to make him calm down and stop. He did, eventually. Yong Soo had this habit of waking up his brothers by jumping up and down their beds since he was three. Yao and Kiku tried to do the same to him in hopes of teaching him a lesson, but instead, the Korean brother was overjoyed. Well, _that_ plan didn't really work out.

"God, Yong Soo, aru, you know, you could've just let the alarm clock go off. That's actually what they're made for-waking people up without getting their brains bounced off of their beds, aru."

"You know what? You're right!" Yong Soo declared. "But you know something else? An alarm clock could never wake you up as warmly and as lovingly as a brother does. And I love you too much for that," he said, grinning widely. At his remark, the alarm clock _did_ go off, making Yao wince at the shrill sound.

"Of course it doesn't," Yao said sarcastically. "Where's Kiku?"

"He's in the kitchen, making breakfast."

"Oh. Okay. You hurry along, I'll be out in a minute, aru."

"Okey-dokey," the youngest sibling said, standing up.

"Don't forget to close the door," Yao called, receiving a wave in reply.

As soon as he heard the door shut closed and Yong Soo's feet tread through the hall, he turned to the panda beside his pillow and took it. He stared at it, and fiddled with its ears. "Good morning, panda," he greeted with a warm smile as he kissed it on the cheek, like he normally did for the past thirteen years. Following his ritual, he placed it back comfortably beside his pillow and fixed his sheets neatly. He then hauled a set of work clothes from the closet and placed them delicately on his bed. After that, he took a quick bath, got dressed and headed to the kitchen to join his brothers. It was the Japanese brother's turn to cook today.

"Good morning, Yao-nii."

"Good morning, Kiku," he answered. "What's for breakfast?"

"Yong Soo said he wanted pancakes, so I made pancakes," Kiku explained as he flipped one in the pan.

"Oh, okay, then. They smell great," he said honestly as the scent of his brother's cooking fluttered all over the place.

"You know," Yong Soo butt in, "pancakes originated from Korea."

"No, they didn't, aru," Yao retorted.

"Yes, they did."

"Give it a rest already."

"Here you go," Kiku interrupted as he set their plates on the table, all of which housed a couple of fluffy pancakes.

"Thanks," the previously arguing brothers said in duet.

And they ate, occasionally talking to ask or tell about work or school or whatever they could possibly bring up.

"Do you want me to drive you to school, Yong Soo? Or would you rather Kiku drive you, aru?" Yao asked as he picked up the key from the rack.

"Neither," the youngest sibling replied, stuffing a book into his bag, "I'll be walking with Hong Kong. Thanks, anyway."

"I'm off," Kiku said, waving to his brothers.

"Take care," Yao and Yong Soo said.

"Oh, I forgot my phone in my room," Yao muttered as he searched in his pockets.

"I'll be going, too, Yao-hyung. Bye," Yong Soo said as he finished packing.

"Bye," the eldest replied, scampering to his room. This is one of the things he liked with their one-floor house; he didn't have to run up and down the stairs to fetch things. He went in his room and headed to his desk, where he usually puts his phone, grabbed it, and checked for any new messages. When he found there weren't any, he pocketed it and turned away.

"Good morning, Yao."

The greeting sent a chill run down Yao's spine; the voice wasn't familiar. He whipped around to see where it came from, and to his surprise, there was a man sitting comfortably on his bed. He felt his heart jolt out of shock, making him scream involuntarily. It was a good thing Yong Soo was just outside the door, and Kiku had a bit of trouble starting his car, that they rushed back into the house the moment they heard Yao's hysterical scream.

"H-How-Why-Aru-Who-W-What the-" Yao let out a string of unfinished questions as he nervously groped around a trembling hand for any potential item he could use for self defense. Unfortunately, he found none. The stranger just smiled at his scared, jumpy state. But, as he was about to open his mouth to speak, the middle brother and the youngest brother blasted through the door.

"Are you alright, Yao-nii?" Kiku got worried.

"Why did you squeal?" Yong Soo asked. "And who's that?"

"Gee, Yong Soo, if I knew him, I wouldn't have _squealed_, would I, aru?" Yao sneered. "And, yes, I'm still fine, thanks, Kiku."

"Is he a burglar?" The middle brother asked, straining to have a better view, but keeping distance all the while.

"I don't know." Yao restrained himself from panicking.

"Oh, I am surely not a burglar, if that is what you are thinking, da," the man in his bed answered. Yao jumped, he wasn't really sure what he was going to do about this one.

"Well, that settles it." Yong Soo concluded. "I guess he can go now, right?"

"No!" Yao almost yelled. "He-He just trespassed in our house!"

"Da, and I surely did not trespass," the man continued.

"What are you talking about, aru? I woke up this morning and you weren't here, but when I was getting my phone, aru, there you were, sitting nice and comfy in my bed! Look, you've even messed up my sheets!"

"Uhh, Yao-hyung, I don't think that's the problem," Yong Soo uttered. He and his brother Kiku don't seem to be as nervous or as jittery as Yao is right now.

"I have spent the past thirteen years here, if you haven't noticed."

"Is he... A ghost?" Kiku asked again.

The stranger let out small childish chuckle. "Da, your assumptions are quite absurd."

"Wait, where's my panda, aru? Don't tell me _you_ took it?" Yao stuttered, eyebrows furrowing.

"Yao-hyung, I _still_ don't think _that_'s the problem here," Yong Soo said again.

"You don't understand! Look, that panda is really important, okay?"

"Yong Soo's got a point, Yao-nii. So... Who or what exactly _is_ he?" Kiku asked once more, as if knowing _that_ is currently the most important thing to him.

"Umm, okay... So," Yao nervously turned to the man on his bed, "what are you doing here, aru?"

The man stood up, making Yao take a step back, and fixed the bed.

"W-What are you doing?" Yao asked as if he'd never seen anyone fix a bed before.

"Sorry. You always liked your bed neat, da?"

"H-Huh?"

"How does he know that?" Yong Soo asked, truly curious.

"Let me introduce myself," the stranger began, walking over to the brothers, once again making Yao take a few paces back. He smiled and continued, "I am your panda."


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hope you enjoy~ xD

Oh, and I have stuff down there, after the story, too~ xD

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Chapter 2

The middle wore a distinctlively confused face. The eldest's was priceless.

"And he said _our_ assumptions were _absurd_," Yong Soo snorted with a sarcastic air and an annoying chuckle.

"What, aru?" Yao unconsciously voiced out, although he was pretty sure he heard him the first time.

"I said, I am your panda. Well, I _was_, until today, da," the man said, now standing before a very bewildered Yao, who was held in awe, looking into the other's glinting purple eyes.

"How did that happen?" Kiku questioned for Yao, as he was still in quite a state of utter disbelief.

"I'd like to know that, myself, aru..."

"Thirteen years ago, or, to be more accurate, five thousand days ago, you took me in," he looked down on Yao almost affectionately and continued, "it was your tenth birthday, and your mother gave me as a birthday present to you."

"Hmm..." The youngest thought loudly. "Well, if you really _were_ the panda," he began with a suspicious voice, "could you tell me what _we_ gave him, hmm?"

"Yong Soo, why don't you just leave the questions to me-"

"Of course. His current father back then, which was yours," he nodded at the Korean, "gave him a watch, which he still uses occassionally. And you," he nodded to Kiku, "gave him a beautiful painting," Kiku blushed a bit at the word 'beautiful', "one with a cherry blossom tree and a garden. Yao even said it was pretty, da."

"Yeah, that's right. And what did _I_ give?"

"A snow globe. Da, although your mother bought it, you chose it."

"Okay. I'm convinced. He _is_ Yao-hyung's panda," Yong Soo concluded childishly, causing the taller man to flash him a smile.

"Wait-Yong Soo, you're _seventeen_, you shouldn't believe him just because he knew _that, _aru!"

Yao's retort went by completely ignored as Yong Soo came up to the stranger and held out his hand for a shake, "hi, mister. I'm Im Yong Soo, I'm Korean, and I'm Yao-hyung and Kiku-hyung's youngest brother. Call me Yong Soo. Pleased to meet you."

"Da, I am Ivan Braginski, and I'm pleased to meet you, as well. But, I already know you," he answered, taking a few steps away from Yao and grabbing Yong Soo's hand and shaking it. "And you are Honda Kiku, the Japanese and middle brother," he added, after giving Yong Soo an almost painful handshake, one that nearly crushed the Korean's fingers, and now reaching out for Kiku's hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Braginski-san," Kiku quickly said as he took Ivan's hand and shook it. Kiku restrained himself from flinching at how much the handshake hurt.

"Da, please, call me Ivan." Kiku nodded.

Yao remained speechless where he was, gawking as his brothers made friends with the stranger he found sitting comfortably on his bed.

"And _you_," Ivan began, walking over to Yao again, "the person I know the most, Wang Yao, the Chinese and eldest sibling; hard working, and very persevering. I'm very pleased to _finally_ meet you," he said, reaching out for his hand, as he did with the first two.

Yao stared at Ivan's hand, then up to him, involuntarily holding his breath when his eyes met the other's.

"P-Pleased to meet you, Ivan, aru" he managed to blurt out, shaking hands with him, and _at last_ breathing normally again. He was so distracted that he didn't notice how the 'handshake' almost fractured his fingers.

"You can let go now, da," Ivan subtly murmured, as Yao was still caught in his gaze.

"Oh, s-sorry, aru..."

Ivan just smiled at him warmly.

"Umm, sorry for coming in without permission, I tried calling out but no one was answering..."

Everyone's attention was instantly redirected to the newcomer.

"Hong Kong!" Yong Soo exclaimed as he sprang onto the recent arrival, flinging his arms around his _friend_ in a _very_ touchy manner. It was a terribly good thing that he was used to the Korean's affectionate ways.

"I'm sorry for just barging in like this..." His voice becoming muffled at every word, as the other's embrace got tighter.

"What are you talking about? It's fine. You're always welcome here, Hong Kong," Yao said, smiling at the troubled, almost suffocating Chinese.

Kiku nodded and grinned as acknowledgement.

"Umm, might I ask... Who is that?" Hong Kong tried to ask as he caught sight of Ivan.

No one could answer right away, drowning the scene into utter silence.

"Ah, you are Hong Kong, da? Yong Soo's friend!" Ivan said thoughtfully, smiling and reaching out for a handshake.

"You know me?" Hong Kong asked, voice still muffled. Ivan nodded. Yong soo still wouldn't let go of him, so he just did his best to oblige to the tall man's handshake, desperately reaching out from Yong Soo's tight hug. He did manage, eventually.

Yao glanced at his clock.

"Kiku, Yong Soo, you're gonna be late."

"What-"

"You're right. We'll be going, then," Kiku cut off Yong Soo, discreetly gesturing that they should go.

"What about you?" The Korean asked, his grip on Hong Kong gradually loosening. "You're gonna be late, too."

Yao put on a smile. "It's fine. You go on ahead. I'm just going to sort this one out."

Ivan just stood there, watching.

"Bye," the brothers, with Hong Kong, said as they left.

"Take care."

When they were left alone, Ivan stated, "that's typical of you, da."

Yao glanced up at him, eyes questioning. "What do you mean?"

"You always put your brothers first before yourself, da," he plainly answered as he looked out the window.

"How-"

"As I told you, I am, _was_, your panda."

"Why d'you cut me off?" Yong Soo asked, "you don't usually do that unless it's something important, Kiku-hyung."

"We should do what Yao-nii says. Didn't you notice? He was more than willing to be left behind, just so we don't be late. You _do_ understand how important his job is to him, don't you?" Kiku almost blistered, not looking at his brother. "Come on, I'll drive you to school."

"But..."

"If he did that, we should atleast do what he wants us to; that's the least we can do."

All remained quiet through out the journey. Especially Yong Soo.

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**A/N:** Hehehe...xD (smiles) It was sort of hard to believe (and it touched me so) at how much alerts there were for this fic. Honestly, when I opened my e-mail, I was like, "oh god, I think my heart's gonna pop out on me! Cousin, hand me the duck tape!" But, all in all, I was really happy. xD And I appreciate it a lot.

To all who went for the alerts, and put this one in their favorites list, might I request for reviews? Please? As in my writing, or the characters, or plot construction... PLEASE? Thanks. xD

BY THE WAY, have any of you heard America and Italy's character songs? Hahaha, Italy was confessing his love, and Alfred sounded like an idiot, but I love him. xD Although, not as much as I LOOOVE RoChu. xD


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I don't know... o3o I just... Ugh. I hope you don't hate this chapter. And I hope I don't lose you kind people who put me in their favorites and alerts... -3-;

Anyway, bon apetit~

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Chapter 3

Yao sighed in a deafeated way. "Why don't we settle this in the living room, aru?"

"Da. That would be better," Ivan replied with a grin, following Yao as he lead the way. He eyed the house keenly. He wasn't used to it; he had grown accustomed to the view of the world from the eyes of a stuffed animal.

Yao sat on the couch. Ivan sat beside him; far enough not to invade his personal space, and just enough not to make Yao shift uneasily and move away from him.

"If I ask you a question, could you promise to answer it with _all_ honesty, aru?"

"Da. Of course," Ivan said, his serious tone contrasting sharply, but elegantly with his smile. He held out his pinky. Yao stared at it. "You always do this whenever you make a promise, don't you, Yao?"

It's true.

He sighed, and took the other's pinky with his own.

"Do you honestly think I'd believe you?"

"Why not? I honestly think you _would_."

Yao sighed again, closed his eyes, and massaged his forehead to organize his thoughts. _This... is hopeless. Who in the right mind would believe this guy, aru? But-_

"Would you want proof?"

Yao glanced up at him, abruptly stopping from his pondering at the sound of his voice. "Huh?"

Ivan just gave him one of his charming smiles and repeated, "would you want proof?" Yao furrowed his eyebrows a little, so he decided to explain, "I _have_ spent the last thirteen years with you, da? You never failed to take me wherever you went, Yao. You have always told me your secrets, and everything that has happened to you, da. Have you never thought I could give you proof to believe me?"

Yao was still busy analyzing the situation he's currently in that he failed to make any decent response.

Ivan smiled at him serenely and began, "you are twenty-three, red is your favorite color, your favorite animal is the panda, which I have been, you are an excellent cook, you have always excelled in arithmetic, which is your favorite subject, followed by history, your favorite teacher was your English teacher in your sophomore year, because she was the only English teacher who did not try and scold you for your speech, your favorite author is Ayn Rand-"

Yao held a hand in front of Ivan's face to make him stop. He still had his brows furrowed. He had to admit, he was quite impressed that Ivan knew all of this, but he's still wasn't convinced. "I..."

"Would you want me to be more specific?"

"Wait, no, I, aru... I don't..."

Ivan's tone went noticably more serious, and his smile casually slid off. "Your mother had three husbands. The first one was Chinese; he was your father. Your mother loved him dearly and he loved the both of you," Ivan breathed heavily, "but unfortunately, he died out of a terminal illness he had long been hiding. Your mother married another man, a Japanese business man. He was kind to you, and he always treated you as if you were his own. Then they gave you a brother, Kiku. You always took the liberty of taking care of him, and he always appreciated your efforts, though he almost never voices his gratitude. He was always quiet and had a talent for art. His father, who always did his best to provide for the family, died in a plane crash; he was on his plane home from a business trip overseas when the plane he was riding encountered an engine problem. The three of you grieved his loss. Your mother married again, a Korean, Yong Soo's father. Just as Kiku's, he was kind to the both of you, although he had a favoritism toward his son, which he kept discreet. He and Yong Soo were very close. He left for another woman. For almost a month, Yong Soo cried himself to sleep. It was only when you lent me to him that he had stopped. That was the only time you let anyone borrow me." Ivan smiled again. "But even though you did, you still gave me kisses before you slept." Yao blushed fiercely at his words. "You retook custody of me when Yong Soo could sleep again without crying."

Okay, this was weird.

_How the hell would this guy know all that stuff, aru? Is he a stalker? Probably not, I've never told anyone about that part of my life before, aru. Except... _

_ ...my panda. _

Yao stared at the man beside him. He was confused. It was too unreasonable and ridiculous if he really _was_ the panda. And what would be _more_ unreasonable and ridiculous is if he _actually_ believed him. He suddenly realized that every word that Ivan had said was all true.

Well, he _did_ tell the _panda _everything. The panda was kind of like his diary. He always told it stuff every single day. He even told him _all_ his secrets. He never let one slide without telling the panda. Just his panda, no one else. But, he couldn't help but wonder, _how come Ivan knew all of this, aru?_ _Could it be? Could Ivan_ really _be_-

"Do you believe me now?"

The Chinese stared at him intently; he was quite unconscious of it, his mouth hung a quarter open. "It's too... It's just.. Not possible, aru..." Yao stuttered.

"But it is, da."

_ No_. Yao shook his head madly. He must be dreaming. Yeah, that's it. He's just dreaming. In a matter of moments, Yong Soo will be jumping on his bed to wake him up, and he'll find his panda right beside his pillow. "Wake up, Yao, aru! _Wake up_!" He closed his eyes and slapped the side of his face painfully. He opened his eyes again.

He was still in the living room, and Ivan was still sitting beside him, watching. The only realistic thing he felt was his cheek throbbing from the slap he gave himself.

As if Ivan read his mind, he said, "this is not a dream, Yao. It's true."

"B-But..." He couldn't think straight. His brain's processor was just plain jammed.

"What more proof would you want?" Ivan thought for a second, and his face lit up with a grin. "I know!" He stood up, unwound the scarf around his neck, and took off his top.

Yao blushed when his brain managed to make out that there was a tall guy stripping in front of him.

"See this?" Ivan asked, pointing to a scar that ran from his shoulder down his waist. His voice snapped Yao back to earth. "This was from Yong Soo when he attempted to borrow me from you, da. You held me tight, but he clutched my arm and pulled on it. Then, it ripped off."

If Yao didn't know better, the image of human flesh being torn off would've been disgusting. Good thing he kept in mind that what Ivan was talking about was when he was still '_his panda_'.

"You were so angry at Yong Soo that you did not speak to him all day. You only decided to do so when your mother was done mending me. It was very fortunate that I couldn't feel pain while I was still a panda," he added, smiling. He still didn't show any intention of getting dressed anytime soon. Yao was too preoccupied with his disjointed thoughts that he didn't notice this.

"Well, aru, _that_ really happened..." Yao murmured.

Doorbell.

"Coming!" Yao automatically said, standing up and trotting to the door. When he opened it, a woman with long, wavy, beige hair and sparkling green eyes stood there, carrying a freshly baked pie. It smelled awesome. "Umm.. Could I help you, aru?"

"Hello, neighbor! I'm from next door. My husband and I just moved yesterday, as you already know, and, well, I figured I should give you a little something since you helped us move in," she said, smiling and gesturing to the pie she was holding. "Here you go," she said, handing him the pastry.

"Oh, right. From yesterday. Yeah, sure, anytime. The pie smells great, aru. Thanks," he said, taking it form her.

"Don't mention it. It's apple cinnamon, by the way," she stated with a smile. "Oh, how silly of me, we were imposing so much on you yesterday, I even forgot to tell you my name," she giggled. "I'm Elizaveta, the guy with the glasses I was with is my husband, Roderich. We're newly weds. Pleased to meet you," she said, holding out her hand.

Yao took it and shook hands with her. "Oh, congratulations," Elizaveta mouthed a 'thank you', "I'm Yao, my brothers aren't here at the moment, but, I think you met them from yesterday, if I'm not mistaken, aru. Anyway, the quiet one is my middle brother, Kiku, and the noisy one, the one with the twirl of hair sticking out is my youngest brother, Yong Soo, aru."

Elizaveta smiled again. "They're very charming, Yao. I've already met Yong Soo, he said something about me having..." Her voice trailed off when she spotted Ivan peeping from the living room. He was still naked. "Oh no..." She frowned, worried. "Did I just disturb something?"

"What? Of course not, aru. Why do you think that?"

"Well..." She looked over Yao's shoulder and pointed at Ivan. He waved and nodded at her, she smiled and waved in return.

"What?" He glanced over to where Ivan was. "Oh. No!" Yao stammered. Just when his face reverted to its normal color, he went all red again. "No, aru! It's not l-like that! I wasn't-! It's just not like that! I wasn't doing anything, aru! Honest!"

"It's alright," she whispered gently, putting a hand on Yao's shoulder consolingly. "It's fine. You don't need to make excuses, Yao. I totally get it." She smiled, but this one was quite different. It's somewhat consenting. "I'm really sorry for disturbing you. I really should get going. You get back there, okay? Have fun. Bye." With a final sly smile and a wave, she took off, giggling merrily.

"But... I wasn't doing anything with him, aru..." Yao helplessly sighed.

Yao slouched into the kitchen, completely ignoring Ivan's expression, and gently placed Elizaveta's pie on the table. He suddenly lost appetite for the pie. He noisily shuffled back to the living room, and slumped down on the couch again.

"Ivan...?"

"Yes?"

"Could you _please_ put your clothes back on?" He started massaging his temples again, closing his eyes in the process.

"Da. Sorry," Ivan said, retrieving his clothes and sliding into them after exhibiting his hot body- err, scar. "That's recently become a habit of yours, da."

Yao glanced up at him from the side of his hand.

Understanding what the look Yao gave him meant, he added, "massaging your head. Stress, I presume. I remember you confiding to me just recently about how busy you were getting."

Yao just nodded.

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**A/N:** Honestly.

By the way, sorry if this chapter sucked. Writer's block. I just really felt obliged to write this. Please give me some ideas, so I could write something better. Sorry for the boring author's note. :^

Anyway, school just started. Teachers work better than sleeping pills. Honest. xD

July 2010


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: You'll realize soon enough why Yao's stressed out about kids... :D

Hope you enjoy this chapter~ xD

Read and _Review_~

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Chapter 4

"Yeah, well... Kids these days, aru... They're just..."

"Too much to handle?"

Yao snatched a glimpsed of him from the side of his hand. "I... Yeah, they are, aru. They're just too curious, you know, too aggressive, aru, too..." His voiced trailed off as he thought of another adjective he could use.

"Misunderstood?" Ivan suggested as he plopped back in place beside the pondering Chinese.

Yao sighed and nodded. He had also lost appetite for words, it seemed. It wasn't like him. He was _supposed_ to be the one who was good with words. Maybe it was because he was still in shock; he still probably doesn't have any idea _how_ to absorb the way things currently were. He glanced at the living room wall clock. It was almost lunch time.

_Wow, I didn't even notice how much time I've wasted. It's a good thing I don't have any appointments scheduled this morning, aru, _he thought.

Ivan was busy eyeing the room with great interest. Well, it _has_ been a while since he saw the world with eyes other than a stuffed panda's.

_But honestly, how should I believe this guy, aru? Should I even? Does he _really_ think I'd believe him? If I asked, I'm pretty sure he'll just give me an answer like before, aru. _Yao sighed._ Wait, everything he said was true. But... If he really _was_ my panda, then... No, stop it. I'm thinking too much again. _

"Umm... Hey," Yao called. Ivan whipped his head quickly to look at him. Yao felt his heart bang painfully against his ribcage when his eyes met with Ivan's.

"Da?" He asked.

"I... It's almost lunch. Would you, umm, like to eat something, aru?" Yao asked shyly, redirecting his vision to elsewhere, so as not to let the other see his face gradually getting flushed.

Ivan smiled at him and calmly said, "da, if it's not too much trouble." Oh, how he dearly wanted to eat Yao's cooking!

"N-No! Not at all, it's fine. I'm... Used to it, aru," he quickly recoiled. "I hope Chinese's alright..."

"Any would do as long as you make it," Ivan said. "I have always been curious how your cooking tasted like. All these years, I have only heard it from your brothers, saying that your cooking was always magnificent, da."

"Not really, aru," Yao babbled; having someone be enthusiastic about his cooking seemed quite...nice.

"How modest you are, Yao! Like you have always been," Ivan added, still smiling at him.

"Yeah, well..." Yao shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I better get started on it, aru. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me, aru," he said, standing up.

Ivan reached for his wrist and tugged on it gently. The contact almost made Yao jump out of his skin. He wasn't used to having his wrists grabbed. Or any part of his body, for that matter. Yao swiftly turned to look at him. Ivan smiled, repressing a giggle from escaping his lips; he knew how jumpy Yao could get.

"Would you mind if I watched you?" Ivan asked, his purple eyes glinting with longing.

"N-No, I wouldn't mind. You can watch if you want to, aru," Yao answered, discreetly taking his hand back again. Ivan loosened his grip a little, letting him take it back. Really, Yao was quite used to having someone watch him cook. Yong Soo always did, even asking his Yao-hyung for pointers. Although, as he chattered and chattered on how to do things the right way, Yong Soo never managed to actually _learn_ anything. He just watched his brother like he hosted some live cooking show.

Yao gestured they go to the kitchen. Ivan nodded as he followed behind. He leaned on the sink, taking in every detail of the kitchen, like he did with the living room. Yao took out a carrot, an onion, a potato, and some ground meat from the fridge and laid them neatly on the counter. He also snatched some dumpling wrappers from one of the cupboards. Ivan then redirected his attention to Yao and began to watch eagerly. Yao took out a few other stuff from a few other places and started to chop, dice and mix ingredients.

As Yao busied himself with orchestrating his so-called 'magnificent' delicacies, the soulful scents of the food items lingered and fluttered about in the kitchen, arousing Ivan's appetite.

"Smells appetizing," Ivan unconsciously voiced out.

Yao looked at him. Ivan was clearly enjoying himself with filling his lungs with the fragrance. Well, it was relatively new to him; he wasn't used to these kinds of Eastern scents. The sudden innovation was refreshing to Ivan's nose. Yao smiled helplessly at the other's state.

"It'll be done soon, aru," Yao told him.

Ivan grinned. "Take as much time as you need."

Ten more minutes swished by swiftly; Ivan was too occupied watching, that before he knew it, Yao was already laying out food on the table. He tried to help.

"You can get a couple of glasses from the rack over there, aru," Yao said, pointing to where the glasses and cups were.

"Da." Ivan nodded and obliged.

And the table was set. Oh, just staring at it would almost make one feel full. There were dumplings on the bamboo steamer, and vegetable fried rice was left to cool in a huge bowl. Delectable. Absolutely delectable. Not to mention it was colorful. It looked like something out of a Chinese restaurant's menu. If the spread was eye-candy enough, Ivan daydreamed for a second if it would appeal to the palate the same way.

"Why don't you take a seat, aru?" Yao asked as he took his own. Ivan was still busy staring. It was surprising the food didn't melt.

"Da," he said, breaking away from his mental occupancy, dragging a chair from under the table and taking a seat in front of the Chinese.

"You could dip the steamed dumplings in the soy sauce, if you'd prefer it that way, aru. We also have some lime and red peppers, if you want," Yao explained, taking a dumpling with his chopsticks and dipping it in the sauce like he said.

"This is fine," Ivan said, piercing a fork through a dumpling just as Yao demonstrated. He was mindful enough to give Ivan a plate and a spoon instead of a bowl and a pair of chopsticks. He took a bite. Yao paid close attention to how he'd react. Ivan furrowed his brows as he took in the taste.

"It's better than I expected." He finally voiced out, making the other sigh with relief. "This is delicious, Yao."

"Really, aru?"

"Of course it is!" Ivan said cheerfully. He ate a spoonful of the fried rice next. It was quite spicy, but all the other flavors just burst in his mouth in perfect harmony. "This, too."

Yao blushed a little at the compliment. Without knowing it, he smiled at humble contentment to himself. It was nice hearing praises once in a while.

They ate quietly for a few minutes. There was the awkward silence that Yao had been fearing the moment Yong Soo and Kiku left the house. He was sure he had gone deaf, if there weren't the sounds of their utensils hitting the plates to make sure he wasn't.

"Yong Soo always liked his food spicy, da?" Ivan said, not looking.

Yao glanced up at him, somehow questioning.

"Da, I was your panda, remember? You put me on the counter the first time you tried to cook. Yong Soo found you experimenting and he requested that you make it mildly spicy, and you did. You were not so sure how the taste would be, nor were you sure _how_ you could make it the way he wanted. But even so, you did your best. And when he sampled your cooking, he said it wasn't good, and that it tasted like cheap street food; but he recoiled shortly after he said that. He honestly _did_ like-no, _love_ what you did and ate it all, not leaving any for you or Kiku. And from then on, you always did the cooking whenever he asked," Ivan said, smiling. "Da?"

Yao just stared at him, his mouth hanging a quarter open. Ivan broke into a short childish chuckle at the sight of Yao's face. He reached for the other's chin and tapped it up, making Yao close his mouth.

"And your mother was very happy because it was only when _you_ cooked that Yong Soo ate his vegetables," Ivan added.

"That's... True, aru," Yao said in almost a whisper, snapping back to earth and getting back to his dumplings.

"Da, of course it is. I may not look it, but my memory is quite sharp," he reached for his glass and drank from it. "Now do you believe me?"

Yao looked up at him and frowned. "Right now? What makes you think I would? And, no, aru, I still don't believe you. And I don't think I will, anytime soon."

"So, that means you will, da? Only, not at the moment, but still, you will!" Ivan cheerfully said.

Yao looked up at him again and sighed. "Whatever, aru. Could we just finish lunch?"

"Da." He smiled happily.

_Ho~hum_

Yao piled up the dishes neatly and moved them to the sink. Ivan watched. Yao wore an apron. It was amazing how he could keep his clothes clean when he cooks, but gets it really messy when he washes the dishes. For that, he uses the apron Yong Soo bought him. Even though it was frilly at the ends, he still wears it; it keeps the water off.

_ "Water resistant. Sorry it had to have frills. There weren't much to choose from, Yao-hyung. Either I took that or the one with bigger frills and Hello Kitty's face plastered across it," _he could remember Yong Soo say_. _

_The Hello Kitty-printed one would've been adorable, aru_, Yao thought quietly.

"Could I help you with anything?" Ivan asked, stopping Yao with his reminiscing.

"If you really _were_ my panda, shouldn't you know the best answer to that, aru?" Yao asked placidly, turning on the faucet, soaking everything in the sink.

"Da, I do. Although, you would shuffle from time to time; sometimes you would say that you could use some help, but other times, you would rather do it yourself."

"And... You still haven't mastered the 'reading me' part yet, aru?"

"I have."

"Then, why did you even ask?"

"Because I thought it would be more polite that way, since you don't like rude people."

Yao sighed. Ivan was right. "Hmm, well, aru? What do I think?" He turned around to face the glinting purple eyes once more, but this time, careful enough to keep his breathing even.

"You prefer to do it alone. You are still treating me as a guest," he said.

Yao spun to return to his dishes, almost done. "Of course, aru."

Ivan leaned on the sink, far enough not to get his clothes wet. He continued watching Yao. As the Chinese was drying the dishes, Ivan spoke, "Yong Soo sometimes calls you 'aniki.'" Yao looked at him, still wiping off water from the dish Ivan ate on. "Once, when he was seven, he asked Kiku what the Japanese term for 'older brother' was. He asked for the less commonly used. And Kiku gave him, 'aniki,' which he uses to refer to you."

"Ivan, do you really expect me to believe you by just telling me random stuff like that, aru?"

"Da. You raised my hopes when you said you would believe me. Therefore, I will not stop trying," he said, smiling warmly again.

"Nevermind." He did his best to repress from turning red at the sight of Ivan's smile. "I'll just shut up now," Yao said, placing the last glass in the rack. "Oh, wait, I almost forgot. Would you like to eat some dessert with me, aru? The neighbors that just moved yesterday gave me a pie earlier, she said it was apple cinnamon, aru."

"Da, I'd love to have pie with you," Ivan said thoughtfully.

"Okay then, go sit down, I'll get us some plates, aru."

"It's fine," Ivan said, reaching for the pantry. He took out a couple of plates and gestured that Yao go on. The Chinese took out a knife and sat down. He sliced the pie; one for him and one for Ivan. As soon as Ivan got them plates, Yao gave them their parts.

"Wow, it tastes as great as it smells, aru~," Yao said, when he took a bite. Ivan grinned at how happy Yao was. He took a bite of his own. Yao was right, it _did_ taste as great as it smelled.

"You, how would you say... Did not expect your first kiss, da?" Ivan began. Yao looked up at him, his face stuffed with pie. "Your friend Arthur had been drunk; a few of your classmates thought of pulling a prank on him; they put clear rhum in his water bottle. He was so intoxicated that the moment he saw you alone, he kissed you roughly on your lips. Then, you ended up helping him walk home," Ivan chuckled as Yao's face finally turned red.

"Y-You... Tha-That's..." Yao stammered. "That's not something you should just suddenly bring up, aru!" He snapped, blushing horribly.

Morbid enough, Ivan smiled at the other's state of panic. "Da, you were relieved that no one saw him kiss you, and you were also very angry at him, but decided to let it pass without telling him what had really happened, because you somewhat pitied him when you found out what your classmates had done," Ivan continued, popping the last bite of his pie into his mouth.

"Shut up, aru!" Yao yelled, his face flushed in embarrassment. He painfully gulped the last of his pie, feeling it block his windpipe, making him cough a little. Ivan stood up to assist him, rubbing his back. He blushed all the more when he felt the other's hand soothe his back. "Th-Thanks, aru," Yao said breathlessly, waving a hand to stop him.

And the ice was broken. They finally began talking casually to each other.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, aru, I'm quite fine." He wanted to just drop the subject. Then, he caught a glance of the clock. "It's already half past one, aru."

"Da, don't you have an appointment with Peter at two?"

"How...? Nevermind. You're just gonna tell me you knew because you were my panda, aru."

Ivan nodded. "Precisely."

"Well, would you want to go with me or would you rather stay here?"

"Would you mind if I tagged along?"

"No, not really. You could wait at the lounge, aru. Let's just walk, okay?" Yao said, straightening his shirt.

"Okay," Ivan said cheerfully.

And they left, walking wordlessly. Like Ivan did in the house, he marveled at the neigborhood and at the streets. Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital.

"Good afternoon, Yao!" A nurse said. His tone was cheerful, but, the volume wasn't really cut out for loud greetings like the one he was aiming for. "You're kind of... Late, aren't you?"

"Good afternoon, Matthew," Yao greeted back, nodding. "I... Had a few stuff to take care of, aru."

"Oh. Okay. By the way, you left your coat on your rack. It's still there, though," the Canadian nurse said, voice still soft.

"Thanks, aru," he replied, nodding.

"Umm... Might I ask, who's that...?" He asked quietly, eyeing Ivan curiously.

"Oh, him? Well, he's just... A friend. Yeah, he's just visiting me, and I thought I'd show him where I work, aru."

"Oh. Okay," he held out his hand shyly, "I-I'm Matthew Williams, and I'm a nurse here. Pleased to meet you, mister...?"

Ivan grabbed the nurse's hand and shook it. The smile on Ivan's face widened with innocent amusement. "Ivan Braginski. But just Ivan is fine, and I am Yao's friend. Pleased to meet you, too."

"Well, I hope you have fun here," he said still shy, but trying to look and sound friendly and cheerful. "I... Got to go now. I still have patients to attend to, so, I guess I'll see you later, bye," Matthew said.

"Okay. Bye," and with one final wave, Yao tugged on his sleeve and hopped into the elevator.

"Could you... Umm, just keep quiet, aru?" Yao finally asked, pushing the 7 button on the elevator's keypad.

"Da, of course I could," Ivan answered. He knew what Yao was thinking. Of course, it would be _very_ inconvenient if he slipped, saying that he was once Yao's stuffed panda.

"Okay," Yao began, stepping out of the elevator the moment the doors slid open. "Now, I couldn't afford you to bump into anyone, so I thought that staying in the lounge isn't the best idea. The last thing I need is anyone screaming I'm crazy or something, aru. So, just stay in my office's waiting area, okay?"

Ivan nodded enthusiastically.

"Alright. Here we are," Yao said, stepping into his consulting area, aka his secretary's office, which was more than big enough for a table and a few cabinets' worth of files.

"Hi, Tino," Yao greeted his secretary, who was too busy scanning through files to even look up at his boss.

"Hello, Yao. Peter Kirkland at two, m'kay?"

"Got it. Thanks." He was somewhat relieved that his blonde little secretary didn't even bother to catch a glimpse of him. He took his coat from the rack beside the door.

He quietly ushered Ivan to enter his office's waiting area. He followed. The room was fairly big; sunlight seeped through the windows ladden with brightly-colored curtains. The room was so bright that the lights need not to be turned on. Aside from the colorful trinkets that hung around, there were a few childrens' books and health magazines placed neatly on the low table in front of a long, soft-looking couch. Colored building blocks were piled up in a pyramid near the table. A stuffed lion and a rabbit lay splayed on the couch, while a frog and a bear shared the top of a shelf full of both toys and thick picture books. The atmosphere wasn't really that of a hospital, nor an office. It was more like a... A childrens' play pen.

"Make yourself at home, aru. If you need me, I'll be in there," he pointed to the door Ivan didn't notice earlier. "Like you reminded me, Peter's going to be here soon enough, so, just stay put, aru."

"Da," Ivan responded, smiling and dropping comfortably on the couch.

And with that, Yao went into his own office and closed the door behind him, leaving Ivan alone in the room.

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**A/N:** *sigh* I don't know. I don't know. I _**really**_ don't know.

**You are going to read this author's note. **

I hope you did.

Hmm, I had a hard time thinking who should Yao's secretary be, so... In thought Tino would best fit the job. Anyway... *thinks* Umm... Oh yeah! I wonder if anyone could guess what Yao's job is before I post the next chapter... xD

7/3/10

22:22H


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I can explain. The transitions are _really_ like that. I only use the 'Ho~hum' part to separate scenes that happened an hour or more apart, not in scenes that happen simultaneously. :^

Just to clear that out.

Anyway, **warning**: 1) Hints of another person being paired up with Yao. I KNOW. I hate pairing Yao and Ivan with people except themselves. But, of course, that's just to perk things up a bit. xD 2) New pairings  
(in this story) make their debut. :D Hope you like 'em. xD

R & R

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Chapter 5

His eyes ran through the name plate resting neatly on Yao's table.

_Dr. Yao Wang, Ph. D._

_Child Psychologist_

"Is there... Is there something wrong with me?" He asked, his voice a bit shaky.

"No, of course not. There's nothing wrong with you, Peter," Yao answered kindly as he tried his best to make the child feel more at ease. "You're here so you'd feel a little better, aru."

"But... I feel fine. I don't have a fever or anything..." He said, his bright blue eyes flooded with anxiety. He was gloomy; he didn't look at anything other than his fingers continuously intertwining with eachother.

"Well, true, you don't have any physical illness or anything like that but, subconciously, there's some psychological dysfunction taking place in that little, minute-detailed child psyche of yours. So basically, I'm going to fix that, aru."

"I... What?" He finally looked up. The words were still too complicated for his head to comprehend.

Yao chuckled amusedly at Peter's adorably confused expression. He got that quite often. "At any rate, you don't have to understand anything as hard as that, aru. All you need to do is answer my questions and do what I say so I could fix the little wrong thing in your head, aru."

"Umm..." He began, still not trusting. "Okay, I guess."

"Don't worry, it won't hurt one bit," Yao said with an assuring smile. He stepped out of his chair, crouched down in front of Peter, and held out his pinky. "I promise, aru."

The child was a little hesitant, but his face evidently lit up a bit. He took Yao's pinky with his own. "Okay. But if you break your promise, I won't forgive you."

"Agreed," he answered, ruffling the kid's hair.

_Ho~hum_

"I'll see you again tomorrow, same time, same place, okay, aru?"

"Okay!"

"Alright then! Now, give me a high five," Yao said, holding up his palm.

And with a loud slap to his hand, Peter said, "bye, doctor Yao!"

"Bye, Peter, take care," Yao called, stepping back behind his desk and dropping into his chair. He watched Peter skip out the door. He caught a glimpse of Ivan; he was sitting on the couch, scanning through the pages of the latest copy of a health magazine. He sighed. _At least he isn't doing anything unnecessary_, he thought. "Okay, now I have to fill in some paperwork..." He said as he flipped open a folder. Ivan took his attention away from the serial he was reading and decided to come over to Yao's office. He caught the door before it closed completely.

"So _that_ was Peter, da?" He said, shutting the door behind him.

"Yup," Yao answered, not looking up from his files.

"You said that he had a trauma," Ivan continued.

"Yeah, I_ did_ tell you that." Yao said with a small hint of sarcasm. He took out a pen and started scribbling down stuff.

"His mother was killed, da?"

"Umm..." Yao glimpsed at him. "Yeah, aru."

Peter sighed disappointedly to himself when he found that Arthur still wasn't there. This was the thing that he hated the most; him being left alone to wait. He settled himself down the couch and eyed the room. The rabbit and the lion that Ivan placed on the table caught his attention. He took the rabbit and started fiddling with its ears.

"Arthur's not here yet, Peter. If you want, you could play with the toys," Tino voiced, leaning in the doorway. He was taking a break; racking through files for four straight hours was giving him a stiff neck.

Peter looked at him with eyes that looked as if they were about to pour with tears any moment. The ends of his mouth tilted to a pout. And within a couple of seconds, just as Tino had feared, a pair of big fat tears appeared at the corner of each of his eyes.

"Oh, no, no! Don't cry! I'm-uhh-" At sudden panic, Tino hurriedly sat beside the child and took him in a tight embrace. "Please, don't cry, Peter. Be a good boy and don't cry," he whispered, patting Peter's head gently.

"Tighter," the boy squeaked.

"Wha.. What did you just say?" Tino asked, loosening his grip but still not letting go.

"Tighter," he squeaked again, this time a bit louder.

"Oh. Umm... Okay, then." Tino did as he was told and tightened his hug a little. He smiled at relief when he felt small hands wrap around his sides. The child had dug his face into the older blonde's chest. "What's wrong?" He asked with a soft voice.

Peter sniffed before answering, "I hate my brother." He let go and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Tino wiped the child's face with the handkerchief he took out of his pocket.

"Why do you hate him?" Tino asked again, frowning a little.

Peter coughed. Not looking at the other, he said, "I hate it when he leaves me alone and makes me wait."

"Oh... Well, that's not enough reason to hate him. Grown-ups are always busy, you know. Maybe... Maybe he has some work that he has to do," Tino tried to convince him.

"That's it. He _always_ has work to do." Peter didn't look up. "He always has work to do and he never has time for me."

Tino just stared at him with concerned eyes.

"You see, mom and dad left me to him," he suddenly said. "They always yelled and fought with eachother. And when they fight, dad would hit mom, and whenever he does, I'd try to stop him but, he sometimes ends up hurting me, too. And then mom would yell at him and throw stuff at him and she'd carry me to my room and sing me to sleep, like nothing happened. They always happen to fight whenever my brother isn't around." Tino frowned worriedly, and Peter continued, "and then, one night, when I was in my room, waiting for my brother to come home, I heard noise coming from downstairs. When I went down to check what was going on, I saw that mom was very angry at dad because he had a girl-friend with him. Mom was mad and she was yelling at dad. I watched at the top of the stairs. Then, dad hit mom again and he took out his gun and," Peter gulped and tears started to reappear in his eyes. "He... Shot mom with it. A couple of seconds after that, my brother turned up. He saw what happened and he called the police and an ambulance. Dad was put in jail, and... Mom didn't..." Peter's voice broke, and his face became wet with the tears that took all his effort into holding back.

"Shhh..." Tino said as he scooped up the child, and wrapped his arms around him again. "It's fine, Peter. You don't have to tell me anything. Everything's going to be alright."

"Mom... Mom didn't make it," he said, his voice broke twice. He sobbed as he dug his face into Tino's chest again.

The elder blonde hushed him and held him more tightly. He honestly had no idea what to do. "It's alright, Peter. Like I said, you don't have to tell me anything. It's fine. I promise, everything's going to be alright."

"Can... Can I ask you something?" Peter asked, keeping his voice low, his face still dug into the other's chest.

"Anything," he answered softly.

"Will you stay with me when my brother isn't here?" The child's voice was muffled.

"Of course I will," Tino's voice was pleasantly assuring.

"And can I ask you one more thing?"

"Go ahead."

"Could you please... Be my mom?"

"I... What?" At the question, Tino's senses was suddenly withdrew from stagnancy

"I said, _could you_ please_ be my mom_?"

"But... I could never be your mom, Peter. Your mom's the only one who could be your mom."

"Then, you could be my second mom. Please?" He dug his face deeper into the other's chest, making his voice more muffled.

"But I'm a boy," Tino tried to reason.

"It's alright. Boys could be moms, too." Peter looked up. His eyes were still glimmering wet. "Please?"

Who could say no to that face?

"I..." Tino sighed. "Well, okay, then. But this'll just be between us, okay?"

"Okay." And with that, Peter finally managed to smile again.

The Finn pondered. He didn't know so much could be contained by a child _that_ young. He thought of things. What about Peter's well-being while he was left alone in his parents' house? Did his parents' feud ever affect him emotionally? Psychologically? What about his studies? Did anyone ever attempt to talk to him about it? Did Arthur know anything about it? Those kinds of thoughts circled round and round Tino's head, not noticing how time gushed by right in front of his face, not noticing how Peter had already fallen asleep.

The door opened.

"T'no?"

The blonde holding the child abruptly stopped spacing out the moment he heard the familiar voice he had been longing for. The six-foot-tall Swedish intern was standing in the doorway.

"Berwald?" He glanced at Peter, he was already sleeping. He checked the time. "Oh, no, I've been thinking too long! I still haven't finished compiling all the files," he panicked quietly. "Oh, wait. I've already finished them."

"T'no, wh's th't?" He asked, referring to the child.

"Oh, him?" He clamed down a bit and beckoned Berwald to sit beside him. He obliged. "He's one of Yao's patients. And he... He told me what happened," he said, gloom clouding his features.

"Ab't wh't?" He asked in an indifferent tone, but sweeping the hair on Peter's forehead so he could see him better.

"Well... About his family," his voice dropped a little. "And basically, the very reason why he needs to be here."

Berwald put his hand consolingly on Tino's shoulder, earning him a smile. "Th'n, why's he st'll h're?"

"His brother still hasn't come to pick him up, so I kept him company," Tino explained. The Swede nodded.

"Mommy... Who's that?"

The two turned their attention to Peter.

"M'mmy?" Berwald asked.

"Yes, _mommy_," Tino said. "I, well, I agreed to be his second mom, so..." He looked at the child and said, "Peter, this is my friend, Berwald," he said softly, gesturing to the Swede sitting beside him. "Say 'hi' to him."

"Hello, Berwald," he said with a wave. The Swede nodded. "Is he my daddy?"

"I... Well... What?"

"D'ddy?" Berwald repeated.

"Is he daddy?" Asked the child sleepily.

"Well, I-" Tino stammered.

A knock on the door.

A green-eyed blonde with abnormally thick eyebrows just entered the room, frantic. The man in the corporate suit with a prominent British accent bustled. "Oh, god, Peter? Peter, I'm so sorry I'm late. The bloody meeting took longer than I expected and-" The scene before him put a stop to his slight panicking.

Berwald sitting beside Tino, who had Peter in his arms: the picture of a happy family.

"Arthur?" Peter asked, rubbing his half-lidded eyes and yawning. The Finn stood up and handed the child to his brother.

"Peter, I'm so sorry I made you wait for me again," he said, taking him into his arms.

"It's alright. Tino and Berwald kept me company while I waited," he said quietly.

"Oh, is that so?" Arthur smiled at Peter's nod. "Then we should thank them."

"Thank you, Tino, thank you, Berwlad," Peter said.

"Anytime," Tino answered, smiling serenely. Berwald nodded.

"Well, we should get going now. Bye, and thanks again," Arthur said, making his way to the door. "Oh, wait, I need to talk to Yao for a second," he remembered.

"Could I stay with Tino and Berwald while you go talk to him?" Peter asked, hopeful. Arthur gave the two in question a look asking for approval.

"It's fine with me," Tino said. Berwald nodded.

"Well, alright, then. Be good, okay?" Arthur said, letting him down.

"I promise," Peter said. With that, Arthur proceeded to Yao's office.

He knocked on the door and entered. There was a tall, silver-haired man standing by the window, staring outside; Yao was in his seat behind his desk, scribbling on random pieces of paper. The Chinese looked up.

"Oh, hello there, aru," he said, going back to his scribbling.

"Hi, Yao, I was just... Umm..."

Ivan coughed. "Excuse me, but, should I leave?"

Arthur looked at him, he wanted a wee bit privacy with Yao, but since he didn't want to sound rude, he said, "no, not at all. It's fine, really."

"Da. Okay, then," Ivan plainly said, continuing to stare outside, but careful to discreetly keep his senses alert. He knew that Arthur had come to have a liking towards the Chinese ever since they were both in grade school.

Yao looked up. He didn't want anything too personal interfere with his job, so before Arthur could bring up anything not work-related, he said, "it's almost four, aru. You came only _now_ to pick Peter up?"

"I... Well, yes. You see, the meeting I was in took longer than expected, and I couldn't sneak out because the head director sat next to me..."

"You know you're just giving more stress to the kid. Making him wait for you isn't really going to do him any good, aru," Yao shot, his brows furrowed.

"I know that. It's just... My work is really occupying most of my time-"

"If you really care about your brother, no matter what the case is, you should set aside time for him, aru. That's important. You shouldn't give just your _spare_ time to him, you have to _make_ time for him, Arthur," Yao continued, his sharp words dagging through the Briton. "That's one of the reasons why he's like that. If you _really_ want to help him, then do what you should." He paused. "You _do_ know what your obligations are, right, aru?"

"I..." Arthur frowned guiltily. For some reason, he couldn't get angry with him. He knows he's at fault, too. "Yes. Yes, of course I do."

Ivan hid his sadistic smile inside the scarf around his neck.

Yao sighed. "Peter did well today. We did a bit of psychological exercises, and he thought it was fun, aru."

"Oh... Okay. That's good, then. Well, at any rate, I just wanted to say thanks for helping him, and..." He paused.

His long pause made Yao prod him, "and?"

"I... Well, nevermind. It doesn't really matter, anyway. I should get going now."

Yao didn't want to linger into the conversation any further, so he simply said, "I'll see Peter again tomorrow. Good day, aru."

"Good day."

At the sound of the door shutting closed, Ivan giggled evilly. As Yao gave him another of his questioning looks, Ivan said, "you really _are_ a different person when you are working as a doctor, da."

"Of course. My job isn't just confined to the kids. I also have to make sure the people around them wouldn't affect them in any negative way, aru. Plus, I always hate it when grown-ups make life harder for kids. I mean, the adults are _supposed_ to be the ones who should guide, support and _help_ them, right? Not to be the main source of stress."

"We should get going now, Peter," Arthur said, taking his brother from the Finnish blonde. "Thank you again for keeping him company."

"My pleasure," Tino said, waving good bye. Like always, Berwald just nodded.

"See you again tomorrow! Bye!" Peter said, peeping from his brother's shoulder and waving.

Walking through the august hallway with his brother in his arms, Arthur whispered, "I'm sorry, Peter."

The child wore a confused expression. "For what?"

"For making you wait again," he said, still walking, every step making the handkerchief peep out of his pocket more.

"Nah, it's alright, I'll get used to it," the younger blonde said.

"No, you shouldn't get used to things like that. I'm the adult, I should be the one adjusting to you."

Peter giggled. He wrapped his little arms around his brother's neck and said, "thanks."

"Hey, blonde dude in the suit!" A voice called from behind. "The one with the kid!"

Thinking it was him, Arthur turned around. Another blonde man stood there, holding out a hanky. He had astonishingly blue eyes behind glasses. He trotted to where Arthur was and gave it to him.

"You dropped this," he said. As he stared at the Briton, his blue eyes got caught with the other's green ones. How tantalizing his eyes were; brightly glinting green. How elegant his blonde locks were, refusing to tame. But what were those? Over-sized centipedes? Oh. No, they're not. Thank goodness. They were just his eyebrows.

"Thanks," he said, taking back the item he dropped.

The sound of Arthur's voice tore him away from his daze, dragging him back to earth. "I'm Alfred F Jones. I'm a dentist here," he blurted out, holding out his hand.

Since he was _such_ a gentleman, Arthur obliged to the handshake and said, "I'm Arthur Kirkland. This is my brother, Peter," he motioned to the younger. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Jones."

"Oh, please, just Alfred's fine," he said, smiling broadly.

"Umm, alright. Well... Thanks again. We should really get going now. Bye," Arthur said with an awkward nod and a failed attempt at a smile.

"Umm, wait. Do you, uhh... Come here often?" Alfred asked, somewhat shy and stupid.

"I... No, not really. I just come here to drop and pick my brother up," he gestured to the child. "He does sessions with his psychologist."

"Oh. Really... Okay, then. I guess... I'll see you later," Alfred said, doing his best not to make the situation more awkward for the both of them. "Bye."

"Bye," he said. The dentist waved at him. With a final nod, Arthur, at long last, went on his way with his little brother.

"I think he likes you," Peter yawned as Arthur gently pulled the seatbelt around him, next to the driver's seat. Arthur shot him a look in between 'I'm pissed off.' and 'What the bloody hell did you just say?'. It was a good thing Peter had his eyes closed, or else he'd surely been melted by Arthur's death glare.

"Seriously, Peter," he just said, containing himself. Honestly, there was only _one_ person in the world he's ever liked. And he doesn't plan on liking any other. As of the moment, at least.

_But he _was_ quite... Attractive, _he thought to himself as he drove down the street.

Yao was just finishing off his paperwork when Ivan spoke.

"He still likes you, da?" He said as he spun around from the window to look at him. There was clearly indignation in his voice, but all the while, he did his best to hide it.

Yao looked up at him. "What makes you say that, aru?"

"It is quite obvious. He walks up to you, all-how do you say, jittery, as if unsure as to what to talk to you about, as if any topic would do just as long as he could keep talking to you. Ah," he exclaimed, "he simply had that aura!" He scoffed. "The aura of someone trying desperately to make contact!"

"And you're not happy about it, why?" Yao raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" Ivan feigned innocence.

"Don't 'what do you mean?' me, Ivan. Seriously. I'm a _psychologist_. I know that kind of stuff, aru," he said, finally clearing his table of loitering papers.

"I'm not unhappy with it," he said, giving him a smile; a smile with no warmth. A smile without anything. Just resent.

Yao sighed. _I'm going to deal with _him_ later_.

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**A/N: ** :'^ I'm sorry, Peter... But, I promise you you'll have a better family than that. :D

Anyway, Tozase-Murcielago inspired me to write the part about Tino and Peter. Just because of her _**review**_. xD

Could you people give me some stuff? I mean, ideas. As in, would you like to read some KoreaXHongKong stuff, or JapanXGreece, or AmericaXEngland, CanadaXFrance, etc... Or, or if you'd like serious stuff, funny stuff, or what... :^

_PS: _I just watched our new president's inauguration a couple of hours back. Call me cheesy, corny, or whatever the fucking hell, but I just want to share this: as he voices out his vows to the country, I hope our people would see the dawn of a glorious new morning.

Hahahaha! Cheeeeeeeeesy! xD

Sorry for the long author's note. :D

July 2010


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Okay, I honestly am _not_ proud of this chapter, but, hey. It's good. :D

Also, may I remind you that the story's rating is T, so you should expect foul language and a couple of sexual stuff here and there. Ho ho, might this be a hint as to what lies ahead in this chapter? Who knows? I guess you'll just have to read it to find out. xD

*being a total ass*

Hope you enjoy. xD

R & R

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Chapter 6

"Two, please. One chocolate, one vanilla," the Chinese ordered nonchalantly as he walked up to the ice cream stand. He took the two different-colored cones, flipped a few spare change as payment, and uttered, "thanks." He then sat next to his friend, who was spacing out. "Here," he said, gently shoving the chocolate ice cream to the other's face, to the point that the area around his mouth was all cold, brown and mushy.

The gesture made his mind take an instant crash landing back to earth. "What the hell was that for, Hong Kong?" Yong Soo blurted out. He wasn't really angry, but he had his brows furrowed at slight indignation. He looked at the the Chinese; he was still holding the ice cream up to his face.

"Come on, take it."

The Korean looked at him, his gaze softening rapidly. He sighed, took it, stared at it, uttered a word of thanks and began licking at it. It was pretty good, like it has always been.

"Oh, wait," Hong Kong interrupted, taking out his handkerchief from his pocket and wiping the chocolate off the Korean's mouth.

Yong Soo blushed and smirked. "Good one."

A few moments passed without words. Nothing worth talking about happened, really. It was just the both of them, sitting there and eating their favorite treat.

"You've been quiet."

Yong Soo looked at him, somewhat in question, like his eldest brother does.

"You're still worried about Yao," Hong Kong continued. The Korean tilted his head a little, still licking at his ice cream. "You were still thinking of what Kiku said, weren't you?"

Yong Soo sighed, and gave out a small chuckle after. "Honestly, is it _that_ awkward if I go quiet? I mean, is it really _that_ weird when I shut up?" Again, he wasn't mad or anything. In fact, he was wearing a smile; a smile out of amusement.

Hong Kong shook his head. "Not really. But it _is_ a little bit of a change..."

"You sure can read me, huh?"

"Well, of all the agonizing years I was with you, I'm pretty sure I know you enough," Hong Kong explained.

For the first time that day, Yong Soo finally managed to laugh.

The Chinese sighed. A small smile found its way to his face, although it was hidden amidst the vanilla.

Yong Soo finished his ice cream quickly and did one of his favorite pastimes: groping Hong Kong. He wrapped his arms around the confused and defenseless Chinese beside him and let his hands run around the other's body randomly. Hong Kong desperately tried to struggle free from the Korean's grasp, but his grip was too tight, not to mention he still had his unfinished ice cream in his hand.

"Oh, wait," Yong Soo remembered something. He let go of Hong Kong, who finally managed to breathe. They both went pretty normal again after that. "You want to stay at our place for dinner? Kiku-hyung cooking tonight," he said, dark chocolate eyes hopeful.

Hong Kong looked at him; Yong Soo had a very disturbing but strangely adorable smile across his face. He began, "well..."

"Please?"

"Well... Okay, then," he said.

Yong Soo grinned.

...

"Well, that's all the work I have for today, aru," Yao said, standing up from his seat. "Why don't we go home?" His look was searching for approval.

The tall, silver-haired man standing by the window glanced at him and handed him a smile. "Whatever you say."

At least Yao managed to get a grip of his heart before it popped, or banged, or went crazy when his eyes met Ivan's. Grinning in return, he said, "okay, then. Let's go." He went out the door with the other following behind.

"Yes, I know that-" Tino stopped abruptly at the sight of Yao. "Oh, hello there. I just finished the papers you asked me to file in. And pretty much everything else," he said, temporarily averting his attention from the Swede he was talking to. "Who's that?" He asked as Ivan stood next to the psychologist.

"Oh, him?" Yao started, preparing for another false explanation. "He's a friend. He was visiting me, and I thought I'd show him my office, aru." Well, that came out naturally.

"Oh," Tino said, nodding. Berwald eyed the equally freakishly tall man beside the Chinese. "Umm, how come I didn't see him come in?"

"Oh, you were... Umm," Yao bit his lip; he remembered hiding Ivan from Tino before, "you were busy with the paperwork when we went in. And you didn't bother to look up, so you didn't see him, aru."

"Oh, was I..." The Finn sighed. "Oh well. No point dwelling in that," he said, standing up from his seat. "Hi, there. I'm Tino, Yao's secretary. Pleased to meet you," he said, smiling and holding out his hand.

"Da, hello, there, Tino. I am Ivan Braginski," he began, shaking hands with the Finn. Yao shot him a piercing look that could make a child's balloon pop. He knew what he meant. "As Yao said, I am a friend who just happened to be visiting him."

_Hmm, just friends?_ Tino thought.

"Oh, and this guy here," he gestured at the Swede with glasses, "is my friend, Berwald. He just graduated from medicine school and is currently working as an intern here."

Berwald stood up and gave him a brief handshake. "Pl'sed t' m't you."

"Da, pleased as well, friend," Ivan said cheerily, smiling all the while.

This was getting a bit... Off. For Yao, that is.

"Well, we'll be going then, aru," Yao said, pulling Ivan to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Take care, now," Tino called, as the two made their way out. Yao nodded before he closed the door.

As they walked down the corridor, Yao said, "I want to get home soon, aru. I'm starting to get hungry. It's Kiku's turn tonight, too. He mentioned something about cooking beef, aru."

A smile was Ivan's sole reply.

_Ho~hum_

"What're you doing?" She asked curiously.

"I'm encoding my new composition," he said, not looking away from the laptop screen. "Why do you ask?"

"Could you do that tomorrow, instead?"

"Huh? Why put off tomorrow what I can do today?" He plainly said, glancing from the raw music sheets he had, and typing the notes into the computer. "Why dou you ask?"

"Well, you see, I want to do something..."

"Hmm? What's that?"

"Well, it's something with you," her tone suddenly changed; it was more alluring. She snaked her arms around his neck. "Roderich," she purred, "please?"

This made the Austrian finally glance at his wife. She took back her arms. His face instantly raged red at the sight of her. "_Elizaveta, what are you wearing?_"

"Don't you like it? It's the free lingerie from that bridal store where we bought my wedding dress. Don't you remember?" She said, posing, making her curves more prominent.

"I... I remember that, of course, but..." He averted his eyes. He felt he was violating his wife by just staring at her in something like that.

"But what?" Elizaveta asked, taking her husband's face into her hands and staring into his eyes. "Oh, come on, we're _married_. I can-I mean, _we_ can finally do stuff like this. You wanted to get married before we did anything like this, right? And now look, here we are."

"That _is_ true, but..."

"No but's. We are going through with this _tonight_. Is that clear?" Elizaveta said, somewhat with authority. She was very intimidating. "Okay. Now, all you have to do is do what I want you to. You know what I want, don't you?"

Roderich nodded weakly. "Yes... Of course I do."

"Good," she said. Smirking lustfully, she pulled him by the arm and painfully threw him down on their huge bed.

"Does anybody else hear wailing?"

Everybody went quiet, listening.

"No, Yong Soo, we _don't_ hear any wailing. Now, let's just eat. You're just probably too hungry you're hearing things, aru," Yao said, picking up his bowl.

There was another wail. Ivan heard it clear. He had an idea what it was, but decided to keep quiet about it.

"Well, you're probably right, Yao-hyung," Yong Soo said, sprinkling his bowl with chili powder.

There were six people around the table. Of course, there were the three siblings, Yao, Kiku, and Yong Soo. Together with them are Ivan, Hong Kong, and Heracles. The table was full of Japanese food; like Yao said, it was Kiku's turn tonight. In the middle was a pot-they were having sukiyaki. Kiku makes the best sukiyaki. The leafy greens complemented the harmonious blend of flavors in the beef; it was absolutely delectable. Each person had the one thing that would always be present in an Asian table-rice. The four Asians had bowls and chopsticks; the other two had plates and spoons, but all of them had a small bowl beside their rice, where they're supposed to put the meat.

"You're supposed to get the beef and vegetables from the pot, aru," Yao explained, picking up a huge beef chunk from the pot with his chopsticks. "Then, you either put it aside on your plate or on the bowl right here," he gently dropped the chunk on the small bowl beside Ivan's plate.

The Russian knew how things worked in eating sukiyaki. When he was a kid, Yao always put him next to him on the dinner table. He just silently watched as they ate. With his constant watching, he was pretty sure he knew how things should go. But, even though he knew how things went, he kept silent and let Yao chatter away.

"Da," he said, taking a bite out of the meat. It was nice and tender.

Heracles and Hong Kong were quite used to this; this wasn't the first time they ate dinner at the siblings' house.

Kiku held a bite-sized chunk of beef up to Heracles' lips, ushering him to eat it. The Grecian looked at him and ate the piece of meat, receiving a smile from the Japanese. A small blush crawled its way to Kiku's face. Heracles gave him a sleepy grin in return. It was a good thing everybody else was too busy with their own business that they didn't see Kiku's gesture, or else there'd be a verbal riot.

"Hey, wait a minute," Yong Soo suddenly said, stopping to look around the table.

"What is it _now_, aru?" Yao asked. Somehow, he wasn't surprised.

"A revelation just came to me..." He continued. Yao looked skeptical. "We're finally complete."

"Really, now? And what does _that_ supposed to mean?" Yao asked, raising a brow.

"Well, look," Yong Soo said, gesturing to the people around the table. "I have Hong Kong here, Kiku-hyung has Heracles, and _you_," he smirked slyly, "you have Ivan," he explained. "You finally have someone!"

"WHAT KIND OF STUPID REVELATION IS THAT, ARU?" Yao burst. "Honestly, you always surprise me whenever you display the extent of your stupidity, Yong Soo," he said, calming down a bit. He caught a glance of Ivan; he was chuckling. Yao blushed at the sight of him.

"Oh _really_? Then, why are you blushing?" The youngest prodded, his voice was incredibly annoying.

"I'm not blushing!" Yao defended himself.

"Oh, yes, you are."

Kiku supressed a giggle.

"And why are _you_ laughing, aru?" Yao blistered at the middle brother.

"I'm not laughing!" Kiku said, obviously a lie.

"Hah, the both of you are in denial," Yong Soo poked in. "Yao-hyung's _obviously_ blushing, and Kiku-hyung's _obviously_ laughing."

"I'm not blushing, aru!"

"I wasn't laughing!"

The middle and the eldest blurted out in duet.

"Whatever you say," the youngest concluded. Yao and Kiku decided to drop it at that. "In denials," Yong Soo added in a whisper. Hong Kong heard him and elbowed him. "Ow..."

Dinner went on quite normally after that. Yong Soo somehow managed to stop himself from bringing up any indecent topics, with the help of Hong Kong, of course. Kiku talked about the plot of the new manga he was currently working on. As for Yao, well... He kept an eye on Ivan, making sure he was eating right. Hey, Yao still treated him like a guest. Yong Soo just smirked and kept his thoughts to himself whenever he saw his eldest brother assisting the Russian in almost _everything_. Thankfully, after that, everybody helped clear out the table.

"Yao-hyung, Hong Kong and I are gonna watch TV, 'kay?" Yong Soo said, trotting to the living room, dragging Hong Kong by the hand.

"No, you go help Kiku wash the dishes, aru."

"It's fine, Yao-nii. Heracles'll help me with it," the Japanese brother said, chuckling at the other's lethargic expression. The moment everyone's eyes weren't on them, the Grecian wrapped his arms around Kiku from behind, earning him a smile and an amused giggle. At least they kept their affection to themselves.

"So, could we watch now?"

"Fine. Just make sure he doesn't stay too long, it's a school night, aru," Yao said.

"Okay," Yong Soo said. When the eldest walked to his room, Yong Soo tugged Ivan by his sleeve. "Hey, do you know how to play poker?" He asked, an evil grin sprawling itself across his face.

"Da, of course I do," Ivan said, smiling as well.

Yao took out a fresh pair of pj's. "I'll take a nice, long shower, aru," he told himself. Handling a kid and paperwork was tiring. He went in the bathroom and took that nice, _long_ shower he wanted.

_Aiyaa... I wonder... Ivan's going to stay here tonight. Well, obviously. But letting him stay here still doesn't mean I believe that he's actually my panda, aru._ He sighed, conscious of himself. _Now, about his lodging. I guess I'll just let him sleep in my parents' room. The last time I was in there was a few years back... _Yao felt his face warm. _You're not going to cry, idiot. You've gotten over that already, haven't you? I'm worrying about Ivan now, not anything else, aru._ He told himself._ Okay, about his clothes. I think there are stuff in their closet that's big enough for him. Well... I'll just have to check that later, aru. _

After getting dressed, he stepped out to the living room to check on Yong Soo. He stopped dead in his tracks. "_What are you doing, aru?_"

"We're playing," Yong Soo said, his face behind cards.

"I can see that!" He grumbled. "You're not supposed to gamble, aru!" Yao exclaimed.

"But I like his pipe!"

"Which you will never win," Ivan butt in.

"And you! Stop consenting the kid, aru!"

"I told you this wasn't a good idea," Hong Kong told the Korean.

"But _you're_ playing," Yong Soo said, making a duck face.

"Enough! Just, stop it, okay?"

"Yao-nii, Heracles is going," Kiku interrupted.

"Thanks... For your... Hospitality..." Heracles said, stopping in the living room. "Good bye."

"Good bye, aru," Yao called, as for courtesy. Kiku accompanied him to the door. Yao was sure he heard a few kissing sounds, but decided he was just hearing things. He went back to his other brother. "As I was saying, just, stop it, okay? Now, clear up the cards. Hong Kong should be going, too. It's already half past eight, aru."

"Fine," Yong Soo said, packing the cards away. To Hong Kong, he said, "Yao-hyung's right. You should go home now, too."

"Thank you for the dinner," Hong Kong said, nodding at Yao.

"You're always welcome, Hong Kong," the Chinese sibling said softly. He watched them head to the door. Then, he noticed something. "Hey," Ivan looked at him, "come to think of it, you _did_ have that pipe since this morning, aru." _Why am I only asking about it now?_ "What's it for?"

"For hurting people, da," Ivan said, smiling. "I could store food in here, as well. And I can take them out when I get hungry."

"Oh," Yao said, wearing an awkward face. "Well, anyway, I was just about to tell you that you'll be sleeping in my parents' room aru."

"Da, thank you," Ivan said, smiling ever so serenely.

"Okay... So, come on, I'll show you to your room, aru," he said, gesturing Ivan to follow him. He did so.

"It is still as I remember it," Ivan murmured to himself when he entered. Yao looked at him.

"I forgot, aru. I always took you here, didn't I?" He said a little satirically as he fixed the bed.

"Whenever you had a nightmare. And whenever you just wanted to be with your mother." Ivan smiled happily.

"Yeah, aru," the Chinese just said, snooping around the closet to look for something that'd fit Ivan. "Ah, here we go." He got a hold of a pair of pj's, and eyed it. He held it up, comparing it to Ivan's build. "This would fit you, wouldn't it, aru?"

Ivan took it from him, had a good look and said, "da. It would fit me quite well." He gave Yao another of his charming smiles.

The Chinese flushed a little and bustled to the cabinet, saying, "I-I'll get a towel for you if you want to take a shower, aru."

"I would appreciate it very much," the imposer answered, supressing a chuckle. Yao looked funny when he was uneasy, Ivan thought.

"Here," Yao said, handing him a thick towel. "You can go to the bathroom now, if you like. And if you need anything, I'll be in my room, aru," he said, looking away.

"Da, thank you," Ivan said. With an awkward nod, Yao hurried along to the comforts of his room.

Yao sat on his bed, pondering. He thought of stuff. Work. His troublesome brother, Yong Soo. His decent brother, Kiku. He sighed to himself and glanced at the Shinatty plush toy beside his bed. He reached for it and took it in his hands. Kiku gave it to him on one of his birthdays. Yong Soo said it looked weird because it didn't have a mouth, so he drew one, which pissed Yao off.

_How long has it been, aru? I've been sleeping with that panda every night since I was ten. And now..._ _How am I supposed to spend the night without him, aru? _

For a normal person, this wouldn't be such a big deal. But since the panda has sentimentality exceeded the normal standards, this was a crisis for was too preoccupied with thinking that he didn't realize Ivan was standing in the doorway. The pj's fit him quite well. The Russian smiled.

"I am ready for my good night kiss now," he said, straightening his face, keeping his tone serious.

Yao nearly fell out of bed at the sound of the other's voice. He thought he misheard him. "Umm... What did you just say, aru?" He asked, truly curious.

"I said, _I am ready for my good night kiss now_."

"What?" Yao did his best to remain calm. "Wh-Why would I do that, aru?"

"Well, you have been doing it for the past five thousand days straight. Why break it now?"

Yao let out a sarcastic laugh. "You're not a panda anymore, aru."

Ivan smiled, half-contented, half-sadistic. "Anymore," he repeated.

Yao looked at him, one of his usual questioning looks. "What?"

Ivan chuckled. "You said, 'anymore,' da? That means you finally believe me," he stated.

Yao blushed. Ivan was right. "No! I-I still don't believe you, aru! That was just a mistake! I didn't mean it that way! I was... I was too busy thinking about other stuff, I didn't thoroughly think out what I was saying, aru!" He ranted, stuttering. While he did, Ivan went to him and sat on the bed beside him. He bent a little and faced the opposite direction with his cheek near the other.

"I promise I would not tell a living soul of this. All you have to do is give me a kiss on the cheek, so that I may remain this way."

All logic and proper reasoning suddenly disappeared. Yao's brain stopped working. _Oh, god, his cheeks look sooooo smooth and soft, aru,_ he almost seemed fatal.

This wasn't normal. It _really_ wasn't normal. Yao was always skeptical. Plus, he's conservative; he's not too keen on making physical contact. He doesn't trust people easily. More than that, he would absolutely _not_ kiss a stranger he found sitting comfortably in his bed that morning. Ivan knew that perfectly well.

But even so... It was _very_ tempting.

"Hurry up now, you must also go to sleep. You still have work tomorrow, da?"

Ivan's voice broke him away from his trance. "Alright, alright. Sheesh," Yao said, the reluctance in his tone was half-hearted. And with a small 'choo', he kissed Ivan, quickly backing away soon after.

"Thank you." He was earnest. Why couldn't it last longer? "Well, good night. You must rest now," he said, standing up and heading for the door.

Before he could leave, Yao called, "g-good night." Ivan smiled, nodded and went on his way.

_What the hell did I just do, aru? _He sighed. "No, nothing important happened. It was _nothing_," he tried to console himself. "Okay," he shook his head and stood up. "I'll just check on Yong Soo and Kiku, then I'm off to bed," he said, strolling down the hall to his brothers' rooms.

"Kiku?" He knocked. The middle brother opened the door and appeared before him.

It was already a ritual of theirs. The eldest brother always went to check on his younger brothers before they went to bed.

"Don't worry, Yao-nii. I'm going to sleep now. You should, too," he said. His voice had that tone of concern.

"Okay. Good night, aru."

"Good night," Kiku said, beaming.

Yao then walked over to the youngest's room. The door was open, so he went in. "Yong Soo, I told you, it's a school night. Don't stay up too late, aru."

"Yes, yes, Yao-hyung. I promise, I'm just going to finish this chapter and I'm soooo going to sleep," the Korean said, not looking up from his book.

"Just make sure of that, okay? Good night," he said, leaving.

"I promise. Good night."

Before Yao could close the door, he heard a faint 'I love you.' He smiled in spite of himself and replied an equally faint 'I love you, too.' After that, he went back to his room and did what Ivan and Kiku told him-sleep.

"Da. I am very, very happy. Yao finally believes me."

.

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**A/N:** LOL I couldn't think straight lately, so if you have *insert whatever word here* feedback for me, please, _do_ tell me, aru. xD I do my best to keep them in character, like the way they are in the manga, so... Tell me what you think. :D

Also, Yong Soo's duck face is this - ):^

Oh, and when Ivan said, "I could store food in here, as well. And I can take them out when I get hungry," I read in the manga that he actually _does_ stuff food in his pipe then he pulls out and eats ohagi like it's normal. xD

BTW, ohagi is a riceball coated with sweetened red beans or sesame. :D

So... Okay. :D

July 7, 2010 2044H


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** For the day-late update, I am _**truly**_ sorry. I have a valid reason for that, really. And it's not an excuse. You see, there was a 24-hour, region-wide black out because of the typhoon, so I wasn't able to fiddle with it. So, very sorry.

Author's note later.

Anyway, please.

R & R

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Chapter 7

"Rise and-"

"Good morning, Yong Soo," Yao interrupted. He opened the door a split-second before his brother burst it open.

"Good morning, Yao-hyung," he said. "And I really wanted to wake you up..." He was disappointed, evident enough, since he was making that duck face again.

"Yeah, well, like I said, that's what alarm clocks are for, aru. They wake people up without getting their brains bounced off their heads," he said, somewhat indifferent.

"You _do_ know that alarm clocks originated from Korea, don't you?"

"Don't start _that_ again, aru."

"No, really! They really _did_ come from Korea!" Yong Soo insisted.

Deciding to just drop it, Yao changed the subject. "Where's Kiku?"

"Kiku-hyung's still in bed," the Korean answered as the both of them walked through the hallway. "Want me to wake him up now?"

Kiku wasn't fond of alarm clocks. He said they were too noisy. He also said that he'd rather wake himself up, which sometimes doesn't exactly work out. So, Yong Soo usually ends up waking him up, although Yao constantly reminds him to do it in the _most humane way_. For some miraculous reason, Yong Soo _does_ manage to do it that way; not bouncing his brother off the bed and such. But, as there are exceptions to everything, there are still times he '_forgets'_.

"Okay, go wake him up, aru. But remember-"

"-_most humane way_. Got it."

"Oh," Yao called before Yong Soo trod off, "what do you want for breakfast?"

"Hmm..." The youngest thought for a second. "I don't know, really." He gave him a confident grin. "Whatever you make's always good, so... I guess just make mine really spicy, Yao-hyung."

"Okay, aru," he said. Nodding, they parted ways. "Hmm... I'd better get Ivan up now, aru," he told himself as he shuffled through the corridor to his parents' room to collect the welcomed imposer.

The three siblings always wake up early. If one gets up before anyone else, it becomes his obligation to wake the others up before it gets late. Well, that's expected; the two have their jobs, and the youngest has school. It's a miracle how Yong Soo keeps his responsibilty of getting up ahead of time.

Somehow, it became a custom in the household that everyone should rise early.

... Or atleast that's how _they_ do it.

"Ivan?" He knocked on the door. No answer. "Ivan, aru?" He called again, knocking a bit louder. "I'm coming in now, okay?" He said, twisting open the doorknob. "Hey, Ivan, aru, I..." He paused at the sight of the other. He unconsciously walked over to the bedside and stared at his figure; he was still in peaceful slumber.

_He's adorable, aru... _Yao thought, still gazing at him. He was about to indulge in temptation as his hand neared Ivan's face for a gentle caress._ Just a little more... Aru~_ Yao's face grew red at embarrassment when his logical mind made him realize what he was doing. _No, Yao! What the hell are you doing, aru? Get a hold of yourself! You're supposed to wake him up, not do anything stupid! _Yao snatched back his hand and shook his head violently. He gulped.

"I-Ivan, aru? It's... It's time to get up now..." He said softly, so as not to startle him. Ivan shifted a little. "Hey..." Ivan still wouldn't wake up. Yao settled a hand on the other's shoulder and shook him a little.

"Da. Five more minutes, Ukraine," Ivan murmured. Even though it sounded a bit muffled, Yao understood what he was saying.

"I'm not Ukraine. And you can't, aru... Oversleeping isn't healthy. Don't worry, I made sure you got at least nine hours of sleep," he continued, tapping him still. "I... I checked on you last night, aru."

This isn't really how someone should treat a guest. Even if the guest claims that he is, well, _was_ the house owner's panda.

"Big brother is still sleeping, Natalia, give me five more minutes or else I'm going to hit you with my pipe..." Ivan murmured; this time wasn't as clear as before.

"What? Hey, wake up already, Ivan, aru," Yao prodded, shaking him a bit harder.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "I said, five more minutes, Natalia," he whined. He planned on reaching for his pipe, but as he looked up, expecting to see his sister, he found a blurry figure of a slender man-Yao was standing right in front of him. He discreetly took back his hand, and plainly twisted it, so that it looked like he was just stretching. "Hello, there, Yao. Delightful morning, da?" He gave him a smile.

"Good morning, aru," Yao said, looking away. He didn't want Ivan to see him blush again, that would just be plain humiliating. He walked over to the window and tied up the curtains. "You should get up now."

Daylight poured into the room. Ivan yawned at it. "Thank you for letting me stay," he said. He was well aware of the fact that Yao doesn't usually let people stay; he didn't trust people that easily. Somehow, Yao deciding to keep him there was quite a pleasant relief.

"It's alright, aru." He swept across the room, skimming through the cabinet for clothes that would fit Ivan. It was a very lucky thing that his Korean stepfather, Yong Soo's dad, liked to wear over-sized clothes.

"And also," Ivan started, Yao still wasn't looking at him, "thank you for believing me."

Yao stopped dead at the other's words, holding up a white, button-up shirt. He blinked. He tried to breathe evenly. He finally looked at him. Ivan's serene, cherubic smile was striking that it made Yao rethink about rebutting. But this time around, it seemed that proper reasoning won. "What are you saying, aru? Just because I let you stay here doesn't mean that I already believe you... I mean, come _on_, who in the right mind would believe some made-up story like that, aru?" He stammered, face still glowing red. He quickly went back to looking for pants to pair up with the shirt he already had.

Ivan chuckled quietly at the other's amusing predicament. After spending thirteen years, or, more accurately, five thousand and one days with Yao, lying to Ivan almost seemed stupid.

"Da. Whatever you say," he said, just to stop Yao from his incessant chattering.

"Here, aru," Yao said, handing him a pair of clothes. "Just put the clothes you wore yesterday in the laundry, I'll do it later."

Ivan took it, smiling, like he usually does. "Thank you."

"You can take a bath, if you like, aru. Then, come by the kitchen for breakfast afterwards," he said, walking over to the door. Ivan just follwed him with his gaze. "Oh, and if you need anything, just yell, okay?"

"Da," he answered, still smiling.

Yao started on making breakfast. He planned on making something all-American that morning. A classic eggs and sausages plate. He took out some sausages from the fridge and a few eggs from the pantry and began to cook. Yong Soo started snooping around.

"I'm hungry."

"I just started," Yao answered.

"Could you make it faster?"

"I think so."

"Please?"

"Okay, aru."

A few minutes after, Yao was done. He piled up all the eggs in one plate, and all the sausages in another. There was an egg and a couple of sausages that had red spots on them. Yong Soo took his seat and took the spotted goods-they were sprinkled with chili powder. Yao was taking out a carton of orange juice when Kiku appeared in the kitchen. His hair was still wet.

"Good morning, Yao-nii," he said. "I just got out from the bath."

"Morning, Kiku. Sit down and join Yong Soo here," he said. "I'm just going to take a quick shower, aru."

"Okay," Kiku replied, fetching a plate for himself and sitting next to his youngest brother.

Yao was leaving when Ivan walked in.

"Oh, there you are," Yao began. He looked at Ivan from head to foot.

God, he was gorgeous. The white, half-sleeved, button-up shirt and the informal, black slacks really... Fit him. Of course, Yao was supposed to be careful if he compliments him or else if, in case, he gives Yong Soo a very horribly wrong idea, that would just lead to another annoying tease-fight with the loud Korean.

The Chinese let out a chuckle. "I can't believe you actually look good in that, aru." Kiku was aware that Yong Soo discreetly kept an eye on them. "I just finished making breakfast. Go sit down and eat, aru."

"Da," he said.

When Yao left, Yong Soo smirked evilly.

"So... You want to continue our little game last night?"

"You still want to continue playing even when you were losing to me? If Yao had not interrupted, you would have lost that twirl of yours," he said, a small hint of arrogance in his voice.

"I was _so_ not losing! And, FYI, poker originated in Korea, so I would _so_ not lose to you!" The Korean retorted.

"Yong Soo, if Yao-nii hears you again, he'll be furious," the middle brother reminded, slicing a sausage in half.

"Don't worry, I'll keep quiet," he sniggered. "Anyway," he turned back to Ivan, "I really like that pipe of yours."

"It will never be yours. You will never beat me, I was the best at that game," Ivan said.

"_Was_," Yong Soo emphasized.

"Da, up to now."

"Oh _really_?"

"I'm afraid so." Ivan smirked.

"So why don't you prove it?" Yong Soo poked.

"You are provoking me to abide to your will, da? I see. Then it is settled. You shall have a rematch with me," Ivan declared. "When would you want to lose?"

"I told you, I was sooooo not losing!" He argued. "And I don't plan on losing to you! _Ever_!"

"Volume, Yong Soo," Kiku uttered.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Anyway," back to Ivan, "anytime and anywhere as long as Yao-hyung can't see or hear us." He thought for a second and sighed. He dropped to being practical. "Hmm, I guess we'll just settle this when we get the chance." He went back to munching his chili-glazed eggs.

"Alright, then," Ivan said, getting back to his own plate.

A few reasonably silent moments passed, with each of the three chewing their way through breakfast. Yao came in, all dressed up.

"You people seem to be quiet," he said, taking a seat.

"Let's eat, Yao-hyung," Yong Soo said, his face stuffed.

And they ate. Like always, they talked about the usual stuff-work and school. Nothing was really new, except for the fact that Ivan was there. But, his presence wasn't really distracting. His being Yao's panda certainly helped. He knew how to act properly at the table; when and whether or not he should talk. Yong Soo always prodded him, engaging him in _wholesome_ conversations.

"I'll be going now, Yao-nii," Kiku said, standing up.

"Huh? You're early, Kiku-hyung," Yong Soo said.

"I have to orient the new recruit. Apparently, one of the editors forgot all about him," the middle brother answered.

"Oh, okay. Bye, then. Take care," Yong Soo said, finishing up.

"Bye, Kiku. Take care, aru," Yao called, putting on his apron and starting to clear the table. He was going to wash the dishes now. With a final nod to his brothers and Ivan, Kiku left.

"Well, I'll have to get going now, too, aniki," Yong Soo said, standing up from his seat.

"That's weird... How come _you're_ early?" Yao asked, glancing at him.

"We have to finish our class Science project."

"Why didn't you finish that yesterday? Or the day before that?" Yao shot. "You had _all_ the free time."

"Well, first of all, no one felt like starting it, except for that worry-wart Taiwan. Second, there's a whole lot of other things we'd rather do instead of making a crappy project. And third, everyone already agreed to come early and do it today, so there," he said, smirking at Yao's scowl.

"Just make sure you help out, aru."

"Yes, sir!" Yong Soo saluted enthusiastically. He walked over to his brother and whispered into his ear, "hey, Yao-hyung, don't do anything wild while you're alone with Ivan, okay? Or if it's anything, just remember to tell him to go easy on you."

Yao grew red again. "Why don't you just run along now, Yong Soo? I'm sure your classmates are already waiting for you," he growled through gritted teeth. He wanted to punch him _so much_ right now but, since he was a good older brother, he restrained himself.

Yong Soo laughed teasingly. "That was a great breakfast, wasn't it, Ivan?"

"Da, of course it is!" Ivan replied cheerily.

The smug Korean smiled annoyingly to the Chinese and finally said, "well, I have to get going now. See you later, bye!"

"Bye. Take care," Yao reluctantly uttered. He sighed at relief when he heard the door shut closed. "Finally." He wiped the last of the dishes and took off his apron. "Now it's my turn to leave, aru..."

"You have an appointment scheduled with that Latvian boy, da?" Yao told his panda everything. Ivan could already be his walking schedule.

"Yeah. So, are you coming along again?" Yao asked, smoothing out his shirt.

"Da, if it is not too much trouble," he said, standing up.

"Okay, then, aru. Let's go."

As they walked down the street, Ivan marveled at the flowers that grew by the sidewalk. Although it was a sunny day, he still had his scarf wound around his neck.

"Sunny days are so nice," Ivan uttered to himself, picking up a chamomile from a nearby bush and taking a sniff at it. "And the flowers here smell nice, as well," he grinned contentedly to himself, eyeing the flower with great interest.

"You shouldn't just randomly pick flowers from other people's bushes, aru," Yao lightly scolded him. When he glanced at him, he found Ivan holding out the chamomile to his face, offering it to him.

"You like these. You think that, what is this again..." He thought for a second. "Da, a chamomile. You think that chamomiles are one of the most useful flowers," he said, smiling. "Here, take it."

Yao once again turned a light pink; this was becoming a habit since Ivan turned up. This was a tad bit embarrassing. Lucky enough, no one was watching. "Well, even so, you shouldn't just pick stuff up, aru. Especially if they're not yours."

"Okay. I promise I would not do that again. Now, will you take it? It is very fragrant," he said, ushering the Chinese to get it.

Yao sighed helpessly. It was genuinely thoughtful of Ivan to give him one of his favorite flowers. Yet, he must not show any sign of consent. What he did was still wrong. "Fine, aru. Just... Just don't do it again. Someone might catch you. They'd probably tell you off or something."

"So, all I have to do is not get caught, da?" Ivan grinned broadly.

"No! Still no." Yao frowned.

"It was a joke," Ivan chuckled.

They continued to walk down the streets. Ivan always had his eyes on almost very single thing that distracted him. Well, no one can blame him. Being a panda for _that_ long limited his world to Yao's life. But, he didn't regret it even once. Somehow, it was contenting to be with Yao. He was... _Happy_.

...

Hong Kong felt a tap on his shoulder. When he turned his head to see who it was, he felt a certain Korean's lips press against his cheek. He didn't react. He was used to this all too well.

"Good morning, Yong Soo," he said.

With a light 'choo', the Korean let go, smiled at him and said, "morning, sunshine!" He looked around, "so, should I start painting now?"

"Well-"

"Yong Soo, there you are!"

"Okay, _that_ answers my question," he murmured. "So, what's up?"

"I'm glad you're here!" Taiwan bustled through a tide of classmates. "Could you please start painting the first canvass now? The paint's over there with the others." She turned to Hong Kong, "and you. Could you please fetch some more glue?"

"Got that," Yong Soo said.

One of their classmates called at her. "Yes, yes! I'm coming, I'm coming!" She glanced at the two and said, "well, I'll leave the rest to you, okay?"

"Okay," the two said in duet.

_Ho~hum_

"Oh, so that's why the inside of my mouth tasted like blood. I bit my toungue. Thank god it doesn't hurt," a doctor told his companion.

"That'll get better soon, don't worry," the Canadian replied calmly.

"Could you make it feel better?"

"What? What are you talking about, Francis? Not here," the nurse quietly protested. "Honestly, how many times do I have to tell you not to bring personal things here at work?" He slightly grew red when the Frenchman grabbed his hand.

"Then..." He began, "when we get home, would you agree to make it better?"

"By that time, it'll probably heal up."

"Please?" Francis asked, his eyes glinting and all.

_Must resist, Matthew. Must resist. _"Umm... Okay, fine. I guess, but that's only when we get home, alright?" He said, snatching back his hand.

"Agreed," he said, stealing a kiss from the other's cheek.

"Hey! I said not here!"

"You are _so_ adorable when you blush, my dearest Matthew," the French said, making the other grow redder.

Matthew let out a small groan and looked away. Thank goodness he found something to temporarily distract him from Francis. With a smile and a wave, he greeted, "good morning, Yao!"

_Really_, his voice was nice and cheerful and all, but the problem was the volume. It just really didn't fit the enthusiastic greeting. Good thing everyone was used to him. Well, _almost_ everyone.

The Chinese looked at him. He planned not to be seen by other people there. Since it was still early, he thought it would work out. But, guess what? It didn't.

"Good morning, Matthew, aru," he returned, smiling.

"Lovely morning, Yao," the French said, trailing behind the Canadian.

"Good morning, Francis," he said, doing his best not to-

"May I ask who that handsome man with you is?"

Too late.

_Shoot._ "Oh, this guy?" He said, hopeful not to provoke any wrong ideas. "He's my friend, aru. You see, he was visiting me, and I decided to show him where I work, so..."

"Oh, is that so?" Francis started taking interest in the subject. "Where is he from?"

"Well, he's uhh... He's-"

"I am from Russia," Ivan rescued. Yao somehow managed to breathe when he said that. At least he didn't have to think up of anything.

"Ah, Russia," the French sighed dreamily. "The land of caviar and vodka. Where the men and women are fierce in more ways than one..."

"Well, I really have to get going now, so... I'll see you guys later," Yao said, not really wanting to hear Francis chant about Russians. He just _really_ wanted to go.

"Okay, then. See you," Matthew thoughtfully said.

"Take care, Yao!" Francis called.

Yao just gave them a quick nod and smile and dashed through the lobby to the elevator.

"Just friends?" Francis uttered.

"What? _Please_ stop thinking that every other man is gay..." Matthew complained, wiping his glasses with the hem of his clothes.

"God, I didn't expect seeing _him_ this early in the morning, aru," Yao baffled when he and Ivan were left alone. He pressed the 7 button on the elevator's keypad. "Matthew's fine, but _Francis_? Aw, geeez... I'm starting to wonder what I'll have to put up with when he starts babbling."

"You slowly developed to be conscious of your image, da?" Ivan plainly stated, looking straight at their reflection in the mirror-like metal door. The Chinese flashed him one of his usual questioning looks. "When you were younger, you could not care less of what other people have to say about you, as long as your brothers were happy. But, as time pressed on, you started to care more and more about what society labeled as '_standard._'"

_What he said was excruciatingly... True._

"Well... That's normal, aru..." He sighed. "As a person develops, he starts to get involved with society. As he starts to get involved with society, he does his best to cope up with the norms, so as to _fit in_, aru. Then-"

"I am sorry for interrupting, and I know perfectly well that you are a good psychologist, but, I wanted to ask... What ever happened to the happy Yao that does not care about what other people think as long as his brothers are well?" His tone was serious. He wasn't wearing any of his cheerful smiles, either. "I bet you would be happier if you allow _that_ Yao come back."

"I... What... Aru..."

"I have always waited for the day when I could tell you that," he began. "Having witnessed every stage of your life, I could not help but be concerned. You always say that stress is not good, yet you, yourself, choose to take in so much of it." He was still eyeing their reflection. "That is just so silly!" He said, once again returning to his cheery state, smiling.

Yao was left speechless, staring at him, dumbfounded. Their reflections broke apart as the doors slid open.

"Here we are," Ivan said, ushering him to step out.

Yao obliged; he remained wordless as they walked down the august hall to his office. Ivan gazed at everything with great interest, as he did the day before. Yao shook his head and took a deep breath before going in.

He found Berwald leaning on Tino's desk, reading a handout. Yao didn't bother to ask what it was. The blonde, Finnish secretary sat in his chair, glancing from the computer screen to the handout he also had. He looked up.

"Oh, hi, Yao! Hi, Ivan! Good morning!" The Finn greeted enthusiastically.

"G'd m'rn'ng," the Swedish intern said, looking up.

"Da! Good morning, Tino, good morning, Berwald," Ivan greeted, cheerful as well.

"Good morning," Yao answered curtly. "You seem happy," he said, half-statement, half-question.

"I am," Tino answered, all smiles.

"What about, aru?"

"Well, you see, our neighborhood's going to hold a huge party on Saturday, and _I'm_ going to host it!" He giggled. "There's going to be a lot of games there, like finding the pumpkin, and octopi slicing, and puffin chasing, and stuff like that. I was just talking to Berwald about it. You want to come?" He asked, hopeful that the psychologist would oblige. "It'll be really fun. And you could bring Ivan along, too."

Yao couldn't find any sense in any of the games Tino had just said. "I... I'm not exactly sure if I'm free this Saturday, aru, so..."

"Awwe... But, _do_ try," Tino prodded.

"Okay, aru..."

"Oh, right! Raivis Galante at ten, 'mkay?"

"Got it."

And with that, he pulled Ivan by the arm and lightly dragged him to the waiting area. Ivan retook his position he held on the couch yesterday, and Yao strode to the window and tied up the curtains. The room was then bathed in sunlight, nice and warm. Ivan beamed at it.

"You... Just stay here, aru." Yao stood before the other, a hand to his waist. "If you need anything-"

"You'll be in your room."

"... Right."

He was about to turn around to retreat to his office when Ivan called, "don't tire yourself out too much, da?"

Yao glanced back at him and smiled. "Okay. Thanks, aru."

.

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**A/N:** *sigh* I don't know... I'm sorry if this seemed like a filler thingy, but I promise you all, the moment I upload this, I shall start on the next chapter! *throws fist into the air* And I'll stuff some new pairings in the following chapter! I promise! xD

Also, I wanted to ask... How do people from other countries pronounce _yaoi_? Do you pronounce it like...

a) yeah-oy;

b) yeah-wee;

c) yah (as in yahoo)-oy; or

d) yah-wee?

It's been bugging for a while now, so... :D If you'd put the answer in a review, please, _do_ state your country and tell me how you pronounce it, da? xD

Many thanks! xD

8 August 2010 2336H


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Hello, there! :D

To whoever you are, thanks for reading this. I'm _really_ grateful. xD

Sorry, but I _don't_ do make-up names. Like the one with Hong Kong and Ukraine. It's just that I think that the anime loses its integrity when that happens, so... :^ Heheh... 'xD

Also, warning: loud, foul-mouthed Italian ahead.

R & R

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Chapter 8

It was Thursday.

The clock rang nine.

He sighed.

_Stress, huh? No matter how I look at it, he's right, aru. Even Kiku pointed that out to me before... But, it's not _my_ fault. I have to. I just _have_ to, aru. For eveyone's sake._

He didn't have any documents to check, or reports to file in, or anything. So he just sat there, continuously pondering. His job. His parents. His brothers. His life. And the most recent thing he's been spending most of his time thinking about-Ivan. Hitting himself mentally, Yao snapped away from his rather depressing thoughts.

He took a more formal stance on his seat.

_Right. About him. Ivan... There must be something wrong with him. I mean, seriously, who would believe a crazy story like that, aru? Should I give him a couple of tests or something? But... He's pretty normal. Well, of course, except for his little panda story. _He stopped for a moment to think. _Come to think of it, although his panda tale is absurd, I... I still couldn't think of a way how he could possibly know _that_ much about me, aru. And I still couldn't find my panda, too. But then again... Things like that _do_ happen, don't they? _

Another mental blow.

_WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING? Get a hold of yourself! Stuff like that don't happen in real life, Yao! This isn't a fairytale. This isn't some cartoon movie! Honestly, you're not a kid to believe illogical matters like that, aru! God, the stress must really be getting to me..._

He sighed again. Lingering in those thoughts ate up an hour.

Chiming again, the clock read ten.

"What? Where did the time go? It was just nine a couple of minutes ago, aru..." Yao mumbled, bewildered. He sat there, waiting for the scheduled child to walk in.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Fifteen.

Twenty minutes.

Yao eventually got bored of just sitting there doing nothing, so he decided to go on to debating with himself whether or not Ivan had a loose screw, whether or not he was telling the truth, or whether or not he's going to believe him. Thinking killed Yao's time without him knowing it. Apparently, he was too preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't even notice his clock sounding off eleven. It was only when he got a bit too frustrated when he sighed and dug his face into his hands that he realized the time. Unfortunately, he wasn't aware that his mind was too active for his own good.

He caught a glance of the clock. "What, aru?" Yao blurted out. He looked at the clock again; he must have misread it. His eyes squinted for a better view. "Oh. I wonder what happened..." He muttered. He rubbed his temples to fight the incoming headache. "I didn't notice it was already lunch." He fixed his already-neat table and stood up. He strode over to the door and took a deep breath before he stepped out.

"Ivan, aru?"

A faithful, smiling face greeted him. "Hello, Yao."

There it goes again. The sensation the Chinese felt whenever his eyes met with Ivan's. Breathing suddenly became the hardest thing in the world. It felt as though his heart was going to pop out on him any second. "I-Ivan," he began, catching his breath. "It's half past eleven already. Let's have lunch in the cafeteria, aru." Good thing his heart managed to stay stapled in his chest.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Y-Yes! Of course I am!" He said, jittery and defensive. "So, you want to get lunch, aru?"

Like always, Ivan retained his serene grin. "Yes."

When they passed by Tino's desk, a note was left on the table. It read, "Had lunch with Berwald. Be back by twelve thirty."

And they journeyed to the cafeteria. It was awkward. Normally, they would just talk about random stuff; Ivan would always start the conversation, asking about things here and there, and Yao would answer in his usual, matter-of-fact tone. The silence was deafening. Lucky they already reached their destination.

"Ve~, Ludwig, eat up, okay?" A familiar Italian ushered. "You have to eat a lot! You're going to need your strength to do your work well!"

"Yes, yes, I know that," the German said, his tone a mixture of embarrassment, irritation, and smugness. "Thanks," he uttered when the Italian dumped more pasta into his plate. The Italian smiled happily.

"Awwe, aren't they sweet? I wish you showed your affection more, like your brother, Lovino..." A voice marinated with smooth Spanish accent said longingly. He looked at the two in the next table.

"Antonio, stop wasting my fucking lunch break. If you like my stupid brother _that_ much, then why don't you just fucking marry him?" The older Italian shot. Obvious enough, he was getting pissed.

"But I don't want him," Antonio replied, comforting. He leaned close to the older Italian and cooed in his ear, "I want _you_."

Lovino's face instantly went red at the words. "Sh-Shut up, you fucking bastard!" He stammered, pushing the Spaniard away. Antonio grinned happily.

The two Italians are brothers and are also the hospital's head chefs. They have brown hair, although the younger's is kind of reddish. The both of them built a reputation of orchestrating class delicacies, all of which are authentic Italian. In fact, all the aliment they craft are so great and have such a classy air, that one wouldn't think of it as hospital food, but instead, one would think of it as items on the menu from a fancy, high-class restaurant. Well, that's expected from a high-paying, private hospital.

On the other hand, the other two, the German and the Spanish, work in the medical field. The German had blonde hair all waxed neatly, and blue eyes that were quite intimidating. He, Ludwig Beilschmidt, is a surgeon. The Spaniard with the messy brown hair and tan skin, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, works in the lab; he analyzes DNA samples. Currently, the two of them are having lunch with their Italian _friends_.

Yao was careful not to let the others sense his presence. He led Ivan to the counter and asked what he'd like to eat.

"I will have whatever you will be having," he said with his usual grin.

"Okay, aru," he said. He pointed out a couple of things and payed the cashier. He was about to take the tray when Ivan's hands swooped in to take it.

"I shall take this," he said.

"But..." He glanced at him, "okay."

They found seats not-so-far-away from the four. Ivan unwound his scarf from his neck and kept it neatly folded on his lap. They already started eating when the younger Italian noticed him.

"Ve~! Yao!" He called loudly, waving a hand like a complete ass. "Over here! Hi!"

"Keep it down, Feliciano," Ludwig uttered. He furrowed his eyebrows and scowled.

Yao smiled, and waved in return.

"Hey, if it isn't the child psychiatrist! Hello, there!" Antonio said, gracefully waving a hand.

"I'm a _psychologist_, aru. Not a psychiatrist."

"What's the fucking difference, anyway?" Lovino babbled.

"Well, aru, the difference is-"

"You don't have to fucking answer that," the older Italian interrupted with deadpanning eyes.

"Ve! You're mean, Lovino! He was just answering your question!" The younger Italian whined annoyingly.

"Well, it was a fucking rhetorical question, you fuckard," Lovino said, rolling his eyes. "So," he looked at Yao, "how's the food?"

"It's fine, I guess, aru," he said before eating a fork-ful of pasta.

"Just fucking _fine_?"

"Well, yeah, aru," he said, swallowing.

"Why? Isn't it good, or great, or any fucking thing like that?"

"Well, let's see, I eat pasta every single lunch I spend here. The stuff isn't really new, so, I guess it's just normal-nothing too special. I mean, yeah, the first time I ate here, I was amazed, but... It's still good, aru."

"Yao's cooking is better than this," Ivan whispered discreetly. Yao kicked Ivan lightly under the table. "Ow!"

"Just keep quiet, aru!" Yao hissed.

"But it is the truth..."

"So are you saying that you're fucking tired of my cooking?" Lovino said, frowning.

"I didn't say anything like that, aru," Yao said, clearing it out and continuing with his pasta.

"You're so adorable when you pout, Lovino," Antonio suddenly butt in.

The older Italian went red again. "Shut up, you fucking ass! I wasn't talking to you!"

"Well, you know, if you _did_ cook different things everyday, people would eat here more often. Plus, _I'd_ like that a lot," the Spanish uttered.

"You would?" Lovino impulsively said, suddenly struck at the idea. "I mean-nobody asked you, you fucking bastard!" Antonio just grinned at that. The older Italian retorted at the Spaniard's words here and there while the younger tried to stop them. Seeing this, the German also jumped in to intervene. Oh god, they were as loud as hell.

"Get your ass out of this, potato bastard!" Ivan and Yao heard Lovino yell at the German.

"What an amazing mouth he has," Ivan told Yao, eating, all the while staring at the four, noisily bickering.

"You'll get used to him, aru," Yao plainly said. His plate was down to half, so was Ivan's.

"Hey, come to think of it," Antonio suddenly said; grabbing Lovino's wrists and stopping him from painfully pulling his hair.

"What the fuck is it now?"

"Who is that with Yao?"

"Oh, so now you want a fucking Chinese?"

"Of course not, Love." The mentioned Italian scowled at the nickname. "I mean, look," he gestured at the two, "the one he's eating with. I haven't seen him anywhere before, have you?"

Lovino stopped his attempt to yank on Antonio's hair and sat back down. "No, I haven't seen him before, either."

"Hey, Yao, who's that?" Antonio asked the most frequently asked question.

Yao looked up. Why was he _not_ surprised?

"He's my friend, aru. He was visiting me, and he just wanted to see where I work, so..."

"Where's he from?" Lovino poked.

"Where did say you came from again?" Yao asked under his breath.

Instead of answering Yao, he stated, "I am from Russia."

"Ve~! Russia? That's cool!" Feliciano blurted out.

"Oh, Russia?" Antonio repeated. He came over to their table and held out his hand. "Hello, there. I am Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. I'm a med tech professional here. Pleased to meet you...?"

"Ivan Braginski. Pleased to meet you, as well," he said, taking the other's hand and shaking it. Antonio smiled broadly.

"Lovino Vargas, head chef," the older Italian said, holding his hand out like Antonio did.

"Hello, there," Ivan said, shaking hands with the foul-mouthed chef.

Feliciano came running to their table and put out his hand. "Ve, I'm Feliciano Vargas, head chef, Lovino is my older brother!" He giggled, abnormally enthusiastic.

"I'm still wondering why the fucking hell we are," Lovino muttered in a low voice. The German rolled his eyes at him.

"Da, hello," Ivan said, grabbing his hand and shaking it.

Ludwig sighed. He didn't want to be rude, so he walked over and did what all the others did.

"Ludwig Beilschmidt," he said, offering his hand. "Surgeon."

"Hello, Ludwig. You cut people up, isn't that right?" The self-proclaimed Russian said disturbingly as he shook hands with the blonde. "That must be fun, da?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it fun..." Ludwig said.

"So, you say you're friends?" Antonio told Yao. The latter nodded. He raised an eyebrow and smirked slyly. "_Just_ friends?"

"What are you talking about? Of course we're just friends, aru," Yao said, averting his eyes, a small blush crawling its way to his face.

"Really?" The Spanish prodded, his tone obviously wanting a different answer.

"Yes. Really." He wiped his face of sauce, stood up and tapped Ivan by the shoulder. The Russian prepared to leave and collected his prized scarf, wrapping it around his neck again. "Anyway, we really should be going now, aru."

"Ve, so soon?" Feliciano voiced.

"Yes, sorry. I have a scheduled appointment. Maybe another time, okay? Bye."

"Bye," the four of them choired out.

"Thank god we're out of there, aru..." Yao sighed of relief when they hopped on the elevator. "I couldn't think of any more excuses for you." He leaned on the wall, staring at their reflection on the door. Ivan was smiling, biting his lip. "What, aru?"

Ivan was still smiling wide when he answered, "nothing."

Yao frowned. "Seriously, what is it?"

"It is nothing important," he said.

"You said it's nothing _important_, aru. Then, that means there is something. Just not _that_ important," Yao persisted. "So, what is it?"

"Did I say that?"

"Yes, aru. You did," Yao said through deadpanning eyes.

"Let me re-phrase it, then," he said, taking in a deep breath. "It is nothing."

_Ding_

"Let's go," Ivan said, gesturing Yao to get off the elevator. His smile still hasn't subsided yet.

"Hey, don't change the subject, aru," he said. "Come on. Tell me, what was it?"

"I am not changing any subjects. We were not talking about anything. Look, a blue bird just flew by!" He said, pointing out a nearby window.

Yao sighed and continued walking beside Ivan. He opened the door, and found Tino tapping away on his computer.

"Hello there, Yao, Ivan," the blonde said, looking up from the screen. Yao uttered a small hello; Ivan nodded. "You may want to take a look at the waiting area. There's someone waiting for you," he added.

"Umm... Okay, I think. Thanks."

"No problem," Tino said, grinning and getting back to his computer.

Yao opened the door. There, a small boy was sitting still on the couch, patiently waiting. He was suppressing his sobs. Grayish blonde hair swished as the lad whipped his head to look at the two, violet eyes glinting with dampness.

"Raivis, why didn't come earlier, aru?" Yao questioned.

"Wh-What? I wasn't supposed to be here earlier... I'm supposed to be here right now. Here," he said, offering a piece of paper. It was his schedule. "It says here one in the afternoon."

"What? That can't be right, aru," Yao said, taking the paper from him and taking a nice, good look at it. "Oh. I get it. It's supposed to be ten. The zero just got smudged off, aru." The Chinese pointed out the black blurr next to the number one. "And it says here _AM_. You can't be here at one in the morning," he chuckled, giving the paper back.

The Latvian took it and stared at it. He slightly reddened at embarrassment. "You're right... Sorry." He sighed disappointedly and looked up at the kind psychologist. "So does this mean I have to leave now?" His eyes glimmered more as tears started to build up.

"Well, not necessarily, aru. The next kid won't show up until two, and I don't want your coming here to just be a waste, so... I'm guessing we could still go through with this. Why don't we step into my office? Then we can start, aru," Yao said, smiling at the child reassuringly.

The small Latvian's lips managed to curl into a smile. "Okay."

"Then let's go," Yao said, directing the child to his office.

"Will it be alright if I go for a stroll?" Ivan asked. Yao glanced at him, somewhat mentally arguing himself whether or not it's fine.

"Sure. Just don't get yourself in unnecessary trouble, aru."

"Do not worry. I will do my best not to."

With an unsure look, he gave Ivan a nod; the latter smiled before the two disappeared into the next room. Ivan left soon after the door shut closed.

_Ho~hum_

Ivan walked down the stone path in the garden, the trees keeping him cool under the shade. The scent was refreshing, like that of a clean forest. The flowers, the colors, the landscaping, _everything_ was a real eye-candy, indeed, kind of like the colorful gardens one would see in pictures and paintings. The hospital owner's sister suggested they have a serenity garden at the back of the building; _so people could de-stress there_, she said, _it's pretty depressing to see sick people all the time_.

Ivan stopped infront of a fairly large sunflower patch.

He marveled in awe.

"Waa... I did not know there were sunflowers here," he told himself. He smiled happily at the sight of the golden flora. "Although Yao mentioned the hospital had a garden, he never once took me here before..." He continued to stare at them, sunlight bouncing off their petals. Ivan sat before the flowers for a better view. He then pulled his scarf low to take in the fragrance. "They smell so nice... How nostalgic..." He grinned happily to himself. How long has it been since he had last smelled sunflowers?

He stood up. His eyes searched for the biggest sunflower he could find. "Ah, there it is," he said, spotting one as huge as a dinner plate. He walked over to it, careful enough not to accidentally step on any. "I shall take you home with me," he told the flower as he reached for it. A small snap sounded when he took it.

He gazed at it, his purple eyes ladden with innocent longing. "You are the most beautiful flower I have ever seen," Ivan unconsciously whispered. "I must show your delicate elegance to someone of equal elegance."

It's always adorable to find innocent happiness in a flower.

Ivan sauntered into the building, his treasured flower in hand. People that he passed by either stared at disbelief, or smiled at amusement. Most did the latter. He was walking in the warmth of a sun-bathed corridor when he saw a familiar face going the opposite direction. Apparently, the person also recognized him, deciding to stop and talk to him.

"Hello, there. Weren't you the one from yesterday? The one in Yao's-I mean, doctor Wang's office?" The small blonde said.

"Da, I am," Ivan answered, donning a smile with no mirth.

"Oh. I thought you were. Umm, let's see, I'm afraid I don't know your name yet... I'm Arthur Kirkland," the short Briton said, holding out his hand. "And you are...?"

Of course, he already knew who he was. "Ivan Braginski," he said, taking the other's hand and shaking it. "Pleased to meet you."

The blonde did his best not to wince at how tightly Ivan gripped his hand. "Right. Ivan. Charmed," he uttered, discreetly shaking off the pain in his throbbing fingers. If Ivan didn't let go when he did, Arthur's hand would have probably been crushed. God knows how much it hurt. "I wouldn't want to sound rude, but, would you mind me asking why you were there yesterday?"

"No, not at all," he said. Ivan knew what he was supposed to do. He didn't want to cause Yao any trouble. "You see, I am Yao's friend and I am from Russia. Currently, I am paying him a visit. Yesterday, he decided to show me around where he works, as well as today," he curtly stated.

"Oh," the Briton nodded at comprehension. "I see..."

"Da."

The awkward silence almost completely settled itself when Arthur's phone rang. He took it from his pocket and glanced at Ivan, saying, "please excuse me for a moment."

The tall Russian just nodded. There was a lot of babbling. Arthur continuously asked the person on the phone to stop yelling. He tried to explain, but Ivan could clearly hear a very angry, practically screaming voice coming from the speaker. He hid a twistedly contented smirk behind his scarf. A couple more minutes passed and eventually, the conversation ended. The person Arthur was talking to apparently slammed the phone on him; evidence enough were his repeated questions of, 'hello?' and 'is anybody there?', and a loud clash.

He gave up. He sighed and put his phone away. He faced Ivan with a very worn-out expression. "Umm, Ivan? I'm really sorry, but I really have to get going now. Maybe we could talk again some other time?"

"It is fine. You should not worry about it," Ivan answered, once again giving the short blonde a smile without warmth. Just discreet indignation.

"I'm really sorry. It was really nice to have met you."

"Likewise."

"Well, I _really_ have to get going now. Bye," he said, trotting off.

"Da. Bye."

_It is fine. You run along now, you do not have to worry about me. I believe it is better if I do not _ever_ see you again. _Ivan smiled and twirled the sunflower's stem in his hand, continuing to saunter in the sunlit corridor.

...

With a tight hug, he said, "I'll see you later, mommy!"

"Remember, do what doctor Yao tells you, okay, Peter? Bye, I'll see you later," Tino said, ushering the child to go in.

Peter entered the waiting area, closing the door behind him. The bright room appeared to him; the curtains, the books, the toys, they were still as they were. Everything looked exactly the same as yesterday. The only difference is that there was someone sitting in the middle of the couch. A violet-eyed kid. His face was tear-stained; Peter could hear faint sobbing. Then he decided to come over to him.

"Hello?" He asked, standing in front of him.

The child looked up at him, his violet eyes still wet. "W-Why?"

"Why? I should be the one asking that." The kid looked away. "You here for doctor Yao, too?"

The small Latvian sniffed and nodded.

"Oh. Okay. So, what's your name?" Peter asked.

The kid once again sniffed before he answered, "R-Raivis. Raivis Galante."

"Hello, there, Raivis. I'm Peter Kirkland," the blonde said eagerly, holding out his hand for a standard, customary handshake. Raivis obliged to this, earning him a warm grin. "Nice to meet you."

"N-Nice to meet you, too, Peter," he said.

"So, why're you crying?"

"Huh...?" He didn't want to bring _that_ up.

"Just now. When I walked in, you were crying. Why's that?" He poked.

"W-Well... I... Th-That's because..." He didn't want to talk, really. He just wanted to keep quiet. A couple more unfinished excuses and his mouth tilted to a frown, tears started streaming uncotrollably again.

"H-Hey! Wait, I didn't want to make you cry! Honest! I was just asking why you were crying!" Peter stammered, desparately making the other calm down. "Hey, are you even listening to me?" The Latvian still continued to cry, not paying attention to the frantic blonde. "Umm... Uhh..." Peter looked around for anything. Nothing. He stopped and thought for a few moments. "I know!" He stood firmly in front of Raivis, leaned close, and took the other's face into his hands and forced it up to his. There was a small 'choo' and the sobbing stopped.

Raivis just stared, dumbfounded.

"Thank god you stopped," Peter sighed at relief.

"You..." The Latvian began. "You j-just... Kissed me, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. When I lived in England, a neighbor taught me that. He said that it's supposed to make people happy. And look! I made you stop crying," he said, smiling triumphantly.

"B-But... I... You're... Aren't we both...?" He trailed, unconsciously putting his hand on his lips. His cherubic face was starting to grow red.

"Well, yeah. Oh, I forgot. I'm sorry but, I should get in doctor Yao's office now," Peter said. "I guess I'll see you again sometime, alright?"

Raivis's head was a tad bit hazy; he wasn't aware of what had just happened, and it appears that he couldn't grasp things right now. He just nodded.

"Okay, bye," he said, tapping Raivis on the shoulder. He didn't wait for any answers, and took off. The Latvian just managed a small wave when the door shut closed.

_He kissed me. _

Unfortunately, his young mind had a hard time digesting that.

.

..

...

* * *

**A/N:** Heheh, I don't know... My brain's a bit off, as in. There's, like, a ton of things going on. Plus a headache. Crapfuck. |^ So, if you don't like the chapter, please, _do_ tell me. *stare*

fuckard (n.) a fucking bastard; an annoying person

Not to be Yong Soo, but, I invented that word! xD

Oh, I'd like to mention a few stuff. :D

First of all, thank you for all the wonderful people who obliged to answer my little query last chapter. I appreciate it A LOT. :D And the people who always give reviews. Love you. xD Also, I've been keeping track of Nordics who read this thingy. *grins* I wonder what they think. xD Anyway, second, I'm sorry if I couldn't update next, next week, because our prelims are coming up, and the DAY AFTER is the college entrance exams. x^ CRAAAAAP... BTW, I'm not that old yet. I just turned fifteen. Just so you'd know. :D So anyway, to make up for that, I'll do my best to upload a long chapter next. _I'll do my best._ That's the only thing I can promise. :)

Sorry for the long Author's note. :D

21 July 2010

2200H


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: ***hyperventilates* ...

[warning: secrets revealed]

Okay, so for now, all I have to say is please read this one first, then _please_ don't miss the author's note at the end of this, and then _do_ give me a review afterwards. Thanks.

R&R

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...

..

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Chapter 9

He was left there, finally snapping out into reality. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as if it were to pop out any second. He felt warm; blood was quickly rushing to his face, making him look as red as a cherry with drawn, glinting violet eyes. He stood up and left. Tino smiled at him serenely as he passed. The Finn's smile would make anyone feel warm and at ease. This was probably one of the reasons why Peter wanted him to be his mom.

He walked down the extravagant hallway.

_No... Th-This isn't happening, it just isn't! I don't feel so good... I could feel my insides melting... And I think my heart's out of place. Oh no, what should I do?_ Raivis panicked quietly. _If my internal organs _are_ melting, then... B-But my liver and my pancreas, and my kidneys, of course, they're all important to me, I can't let them melt! N-Not to mention I could _never_ afford to have an operation. I'm sure that surgery will be expensive! I don't know what they do to melted organs. B-But... they're just not working right! _

And lo, the small Latvian was terrified. Little did he know that his internal organs were not melting; and neither was his heart out of place. What he was feeling were just the mere side effects of an unprepared first kiss.

...

Ivan walked until he reached the end of the hallway. To his left, there was a huge open door that led to the garden again. He looked around; opposite the door was another long, but artificially-lit corridor, and behind him was the sunlit hallway he had just been through. He made a decision to go back outside and enjoy the relaxing view of the greens, and probably the sunflowers again, too. He strode past the play area; the kids were all running around, laughing. There were two who plainly lied down on the grass, near a flower patch. Ivan grew jealous. He wanted to do the same, preferably under the cool shade of a tree. He would take a nap. That's what he'd been daydreaming about. He continued to stroll. He was busy gazing at the wonderous spread of colors, when something fluttered right in front of him-a cabbage butterfly. He grinned at it, and it rested on his nose. It felt itchy, making him sneeze, causing it to fly away. He skipped along, chasing after it, making sure that he didn't look too absorbed. Otherwise, he would look like a complete retard. Of course, he kept his promise in mind, not to cause any unnecessary trouble.

"Yeah. I was, like, totally suprised," a somehow familiar voice said from a distance.

He stopped abruptly at the sound. He whipped around to look where it came from.

"Like, no kidding," the voice grew louder. "Well, honestly, he was the one who, like, started the whole thing. And I couldn't care less about what he thinks. All I know is that I was the one who was right."

When Ivan squinted to look for whoever the voice belonged to. He saw a certain Polish blonde; he had his arm around a taller Lithuanian's. It seemed that they were having a stroll around the garden. The taller man, who had green eyes and brown hair, simpered as the blonde continued with his anecdote.

"Technically, it wasn't really _his_ fault. He was in a hurry, after all..."

"Oh, come _on_, Liet. I was, like, the victim, okay? He, like, totally crashed into me, and he didn't even stop to say sorry," the blonde whined with furrowed eyebrows. "Like, what a jerk."

Ivan trotted further. He stood in the pathway where the two would eventually pass. He keenly stared at the blonde as he walked with his companion. The blonde's _friend_ was relieved when the arm snaked around his let go. The Polish's face lit up as he caught sight of Ivan; he stopped right in front of him.

"Long time, no see, Ivan," he said, putting a hand to his waist. He didn't mean to be offensive with his stance, this was merely a habit of his.

"Da. Long time, no see, Feliks." He grinned, pulling down his scarf, so his voice wouldn't sound muffled.

The Lithuanian wore an awkward face. He was confused; he didn't know what was going on.

"I see you got back to normal. I didn't notice it's been, like, thirteen years, as in, five thousand days already. Like, how was it?"

Ivan retained his smile. "I was kept occupied."

"Ooh... So, how does it, like, feel to be normal again?" His tone was similar to that of a typical, gossiping school girl's.

"It is wonderful!" He said, broadening his childish smile.

"And what did _he_ think? Did he, like, believe you?"

"I am positive that he already believes me, yet, he still denies it through his words," Ivan said. He eyed the blonde from head to foot. "How is your work coming along?"

"I, like, quit my old job," Feliks said, smirking contentedly.

Ivan was surprised. "You are able quit a job like that?"

"Like, yeah. But it wasn't easy." He grabbed his companion by the arm again. The bewildered Lithuanian caught a small blush at the gesture. "What's ironic is that I met _him_," he glanced at his _friend_, "because of my job. Isn't that right, Liet?"

"Yes..." _Liet_ answered with a nod. This wasn't his name; Feliks just calls him that. He said it was a term of _endearment_. In other words, he just gave him a nickname. His _real_ name was Toris. Toris Lorinaitis.

"Is that so? What did you do?" Ivan asked at earnest interest.

"Well," Feliks began, "it's a long story-"

"-and it'll get longer if _you_ tell it," Toris interrupted, snickering. Ivan chuckled at that.

"Hey, like, nobody asked you, okay?" The Polish shot, still clinging on his arm. He sighed. "Well, like, I was saying, it's a _really_ long story. Plus, it's, like, a total bother. So, long story cut short, I, like, fell in love with him," he said, smirking triumphantly. Toris averted his face; having a man declare his love to another man in public was a bit embarrassing. "He was supposed to die when a hired gun man assassinated him, then I was, like, sent there to do what I did to you. Then, when my boss found out that I, like, fell head over heels for him, he told me that if I wanted to be with him, then I should, like, quit my job. And that's exactly what I did. So, there."

Ivan nodded at comprehension. "Da. I see..."

Feliks's smile faded, and he took up a more serious stance. "Even though I'm not in charge of you anymore, I, like, just want to remind that little _condition_ in the contract you signed."

"Da. I am well aware of that." His hold on the sunflower tightened severely.

"He has to believe you, on his own accord, without force or anything, so you could-"

"I am aware of the consequence, supposing the opposite happens," Ivan cut in. His words and his tone were sharp.

Feliks looked at him, slightly nonchalant. "I'm, like, just saying."

"And I appreciate your effort for reminding me."

The Polish sighed. "Well, okay. So I guess the rest is, like, up to you, then." He flipped his hair. "I'm going, then. Bye," he said, preparing to get back to their little stroll.

"Bye," Toris mouthed, nodding.

"Da. Good bye."

"Oh, and Ivan," Feliks called. "Good luck with your catch."

Ivan just smiled and nodded. He watched the two pass by the play area; he heard Feliks retort irritatedly at Toris's comment.

He sighed. He remembered perfectly well the day he had crossed paths with Feliks.

_"Like, get up." _

_ Ivan shifted a bit, floundering in the snow-ladden ground. "H-Huh...?" _

_ "I, said, _get up_." His voice definitely had that tone of exasperation. "You know, if I had a quarter for every minute I waste on you, I would, like, be rich by now." _

_ The confounded Russian fixed the scarf wound around his neck, which seemed to have constrained his breathing, and there, he found a blurry figure before him. It seemed like a man; he had a hand on his waist, continuously ranting on about things. _

_ Ivan shook himself into consciousness. He then realized that he was sitting next to his body. His eyes widened at the sight of his corpse. Predictably, he was startled. "Wh-What? I-This-" His hands ran about; he touched his face, his arms, his abdomen, his whole body-they were all solid. He sighed. "Da. I see. I must probably be dead already," he uttered. He smiled as if it weren't a serious matter. "Then," he began, looking up at the man that stood beside him, "I presume that you are here to collect my soul, correct?" _

_ The blonde was in the middle of bewilderment and amazement. "Woah. Like, that was new," he said. "I never met anyone who didn't panic like a goofball before. Like, why didn't you?" _

_ Ivan remained seated where he was. "I do not see anything beneficial panicking would give," he said, his eyes unwavering. "Please answer my query. Are you here to collect my soul?" _

_ The blonde smirked. "Hmm... I guess you could, like, say I am, and I'm not." _

_ Ivan's brows furrowed. _

_ "Okay, first of all, let me introduce myself. I'm Feliks, and I'm, like, here to let you in on a little something." _

_ "Pleased to meet you, Feliks. I am-" _

_ "Yeah, yeah, Ivan Braginski. I, like, know you already." The Russian looked at him, urging him just go on and tell him everything. "Anyway, here, let me explain. You, like, died." _

_ "I have realized at least that much," Ivan deadpanned. _

_ "Right," he continued. "Anyway, I was, like, sent here, by my boss, to, like, let you in on a little deal. You see, after you died, he felt like doing something about it, so he prepared a contract, like he always does. And now, all you have to do is just sign it." Ivan looked at him, full comprehension still not settling in, so he continued, "the contract states that you're going to, like, get a second shot, as in, live again. But, there's a catch. Your body's going to be turned into a stuffed animal, and you'll have to spend five thousand days with a kid. While being a stuffed animal, the only senses that would, like, work are your eyesight, and your hearing. Then, every single day-you shouldn't miss one, or else you'll have to start all over again-the kid has to do something to you. He or she could, like, talk to you, or hug you, or kiss you, or something along those lines." He flipped his hair when the wind blew weakly. "Oh, I almost forgot, your body'll stay as it is. When you, like, get it back, it'll be like how it is now-minus the wounds, though, 'cause obviously, it wouldn't look too pretty. Anyway, it's simple as that," he finished. "Easy, huh?" He patted off the snow in his hair. "I'll give you a day to make up your mind." _

_ Ivan looked at him, somewhat stoic. He took in a deep breath, letting everything sink in. He grinned. _

_ "I shall sign the contract." _

_ Feliks glanced at him and raised a brow. "You, like, agree?" _

_ Ivan nodded. _

_ The blonde's lips tilted to a hardly-believing grin. "Like, really?" _

_ "Da. I am quite certain." _

_ "Hmm... Well, okay, then, I guess," he said. "Just wondering, though... Like, what made you decide so fast?" _

_ The Russian simply smiled again and said, "foremost, I do not have anything to risk. And the terms seem interesting." _

_ "Oh. Okay, then, I guess..." A piece of neat paper popped out of thin air at a flick of his fingers. "Here you go," he said, handing him the contract. "Just sign right here," he pointed out the dotted line with the pen he took out from nowhere. _

_ Ivan took them. His eyes roughly skimmed through the contract; there weren't any suspicious fine prints or anything. Everything was in legible, bold letters. After swishing down his signature, he gave it back to Feliks. _

_ "Like, okay then," he said. "Now," he took out a small roulette from his pocket, "all that's left now is deciding what animal you'll be. Just out of curiosity, like, what do you prefer to be?" _

_ "Hmm... A polar bear would be suitable." _

_ "Let's see... Would it be a polar bear?" He spun the roulette. It was surprising how so many animals fit in the wheel. A few seconds later, it started to slow down and finally, it stopped. He held it up to see where it ended. The blonde showed it to him. "Well, at least it's still a bear," he said, chuckling. _

_ "Da. I suppose a panda is not _that_ bad," he uttered. _

_ "Like, a panda it is, then." With another flick of his fingers, Ivan's body that lay on the snow instantly became a stuffed panda. "Now, I'll, like, put your soul into that panda and I'll send you to your assigned location. After that, all you have to do is wait for the kid. Got it?" _

_ Ivan nodded. _

And the last thing he remembered was waking up in a toy store, and being bought by a beautiful, Chinese woman.

He sighed again.

"I suppose I should return to Yao's office now," he said, twirling the sunflower. As he gazed at it, his eyes filled with immense nostalgia. He walked along the stone path, passing by the aquilegia and carnation patches, until he reached the end. A pink flower patch caught his eye. He decided to observe them for a couple of seconds. He wasn't familiar with the blossoms that stared back at him. "How lovely," he said, crouching down for a closer view. He examined the nearest one, tilting his head for different angles. He noticed a name plate plastered on the white fence. It read, _Peony_. "That must be what you are, da?" He smiled as he continued to watch them as they were gracefully swaying at the gentle breeze. "You are elegant, as my sunflower is," he said. "But forgive me, but I trust that my sunflower is more elegant than you are." He stood up, and glanced if anyone was around. He found no one. He crouched back again. "I really must be returning at this moment," he muttered to himself. "Come," he reached for the flower he had been talking to, "I shall take you with me."

With a similar snapping sound, he took the peony and held it side by side with his sunflower.

"Yes, my sunflower is much more elegant than you are. Nevertheless, you are beautiful as well."

And he journeyed back to Yao's office.

...

"Take a seat, aru," he said, not looking up from the paperwork he was reading. The blonde British that stood in front of him mouthed a small 'thank you'. "So, you wanted to tell me something?"

"Well, yes," Arthur began, hesitant. "I... Umm... Well, I know I haven't told you this before, and I strongly believe that Peter's psychologist should know the fact that... He is not my blood brother."

Somehow, the statement finally caught his attention, but pretended it had not struck him. "Does he know about it?"

"I... About that..." He sighed noisily. "Let me explain. You see, he is my mother's sister's son, which makes him my cousin. His mother died of childbirth, and my mother took the liberty of being responible for him. And basically, the main reason why my parents always fought is because of that. My father doesn't want to take him in, since he said he would just be a burden, which I don't think is true. And as the time passed, and their fighting grew more and more often, my bloody father started seeing another woman." Yao frowned and grew a bit concerned about him. Why hasn't he told him about this? "My mother knew of this, but she decided to remain silent about it," he paused and looked down at his fingers. "And about him knowing it... No. I just slipped a bit yesterday, but he still isn't aware of it."

"I see..." Yao said.

_Should I conduct tests on him, too, aru? _

"So, now I was just going to ask... Should I tell him the truth?" He slightly fidgeted. "Or should I cover it up?"

"Of course you should tell him what really happened, aru," he answered. "But not now. Telling him that would most probably just add stress to him."

"Oh. Alright, then."

"It'll be unfair if you keep the truth from him, but there's always a time for everything. And now's not the time for it. _Yet_, at least, aru." He fixed the some papers. "As for the meantime, just do what you're supposed to do. Fulfill your obligations to him. Remember: he's still a kid."

Arthur stared at him. He wanted to ask something else. Unfortunately, he still wasn't done packing up the courage to.

"I'll keep that in mind..."

"Alright, then," the psychologist said with a tone of finality. He went back to not-looking-up-from-the-boring-papers again.

"Right... I'll be going, then. Umm... Thank you. Bye," he said, standing up from his seat.

"Bye. Take care, aru."

The door shut closed.

Arthur found his brother nestled in the arms of Yao's happy, blonde secretary, cradling him tenderly. The child chuckled at the Finn's words. The scene was typical, yet it was pleasant and mild, precisely like that of a mother and child.

"Oh. Hello, there, Arthur," Tino greeted, smiling. The Briton nodded. "Here's your brother back," he said, lifting Peter and handing him over to his brother.

"Awwe, do I really have to go now?"

"Yes, Peter, you do. But don't worry, you'll come back tomorrow, right?" Tino said. The child nodded. "There you go. Bye, then."

"Bye," he said, reaching out for the Finn's hand. "Would daddy be here tomorrow?"

Tino flushed. "Umm... Right. About daddy..." Peter tilted his head in question. Seeing this, he just said, "who knows? If we're lucky, then he will be."

"Okay, then. Bye." Peter gave him a flying kiss, which earned him a smile.

Putting on a forged smile, Arthur nodded and uttered a small word of thanks. The Finn smiled at him and waved good bye. And he left off, carrying his brother. They walked down the hallway.

"Daddy?" Arthur asked.

"It's a long story," Peter giggled. "I promise I'll tell you some other time." He held out his pinky. Arthur immediately recognized the gesture.

"Where did you learn that?"

"From someone."

"And that someone is...?"

"A secret. I won't tell. If you want, you can guess," he giggled.

"Okay. Is it... Doctor Wang?"

"Hey, no fair! You cheated!" Peter exclaimed. Arthur smiled helplessly. "But you're right. Anyway, like I said, I promise I'll tell you some other time," he said, holding up his pinky again.

"Okay, then," the older blonde said, taking the child's pinky with his own.

Peter yawned.

"Are you sleepy?"

He nodded.

"Go ahead, then," he said, his voice warm and inviting. Peter wrapped his small arms around his brother's neck, and rested his head on the shoulder. Then, right away, he fell asleep.

Unconsciously, he lost himself in thought.

_Bloody hell... I swear, I am the biggest coward I know. I couldn't even ask about whatever happened between us. I couldn't even clear that one, single thing out. That's the _only_ thing keeping us awkward... And I even have a hard time to look at him straight in the eyes! I am such a bloody git... _

His lips already tilted to a frown without him knowing it. Either it was fortunate, or unfortunate, someone else noticed. Another blonde turned up, and walked beside him.

"Hey, what's with the long face?"

He glanced to see who it was. It was the dentist from yesterday.

"Oh, hello, there. Fancy meeting you again."

Alfred just smiled and nodded. "So, I couldn't help but noticing-and I hope that I'm not being rude or anything, but... How come you look so sad? Did something happen?"

"_So_ sad?" Arthur repeated. "I don't think so..."

"Well, you _did_ look that way just now," he persisted.

"Did I, now?"

"Yeah. So, what happened?"

_I just met him _yesterday_. What bloody nerve of him to ask me something _that_ personal! But then again... _He glanced at him again. He saw that the dentist's eyes practically screamed 'I want to know so please tell me already.' _I suppose I could trust him. Or maybe not... I don't know... _

The British sighed and looked at him with testing eyes. "If, in case, something really _did_ happen, do you _honestly_ think I would tell it to you?"

"Hmm," Alfred began, "I don't see a reason not to." He smiled.

...

"It's love when your eyes meet with that person's, and you suddenly find it heard to breathe. Then, nothing in this world seems to be right anymore except to give in to losing your mind," he said. "I read that when a friend posted it on Facebook. Do you think it's true, Yao?"

The psychologist looked at him. He watched as his secretary cleared up his desk of all the files and paperwork he had been running over for the past few hours.

"How should I know, aru?"

"Well," Tino said, picking up a few folders, "for one thing, you're a psychologist. You should at least have something to say about that."

"If you want a legitimate answer, I'd have to say, _it depends_, aru. Basically, it varies from person to person. Of course, the mind has a lot to do about it. And you were saying-the hard to breathe thing-it's possible that it happens to some people, but at the same time, other people can be good at hiding what they feel, they could be good at controlling themselves. And then again, there are other people who just do other stuff, aru."

"You know, for some reason, I actually expected you'd say something like that," he said, stacking the last piece of paperwork. "Oh well. It just might be instinct. I'll be getting to these. Bye."

"Thanks, aru," Yao called behind his seat.

Just as the door shut closed, it came swinging open again.

"Wonderful afternoon, Yao," Ivan greeted, closing the door behind him.

"Hello, Ivan, aru. How was your little stroll?" He asked, a little placidly. Hesitating, he looked up. He suddenly held his breath without meaning to.

"It was absolutely splendid," he said happily. The sound of his voice somewhat shook the psychologist from his trance. "I went to the garden you have told me about, and I was quite surprised at the extent of its diversity. You simply _must_ go there some time." He strode to sit on the chair in front of the Chinese's desk, and parted away his valued scarf. He smiled at childish excitement. "Also, I wanted to show you these," he stretched out the hand holding the peony and the sunflower.

"They are elegant, are they not?"

"Yes, they-wait," he frowned. "You _picked_ them up from the garden?"

Ivan nodded, smiling. "The flowers have been well-kept, and I wished to bring you one. To, how do you say, cheer you up."

Yao sighed, exasperated. "Ivan," he said, his tone almost whining. "What did I tell you about picking up stuff that aren't yours, aru?"

Ivan thought for a second, and he remembered the little incident that morning. His face saddened; the transition was adorable, and Yao saw this. "I seem to have forgotten about it. Forgive me."

Yao frowned. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get angry at him. With _that_ face? "And you even promised not to do it again, too, aru..."

"Once more, I am sorry. I vow that from this moment onwards, I shall keep that in mind." He smiled again, and twirled the flowers around his fingers, Yao was still wore a frown. "If it would lessen the gravity of what I have done, no one saw me when I picked them up," Ivan giggled.

Yao suppressed a smile that was battling to come through.

"Here," Ivan offered him the pink blossom. "I took this one for you. Just take this one flower, and it shall be my last."

How sweet.

"Fine," he carefully kept his tone irritated-sounding; he didn't want to act too obvious. He took the peony from Ivan. "Just _promise_ me you'll never ever take things that aren't yours, aru. Alright?"

"Da. I promise," he answered, holding out his pinky.

Yao, like usual, gave him a questioning look. "What's with that?"

"I do not believe you have forgotten about this, Yao. This is the standard you set whenever you make people promise. You have been doing this since you were eleven," he said, still smiling.

"Well, that's true..."

"As I have been saying over and over again, _I am-was-your panda_." He held his pinky higher. "Here. I promise I shall never again take away entities that are not mine."

"Alright, alright," he finally obliged and shook pinkies with him. "Okay. I guess that settles it, then." Yao fixed his desk that never seemed to run out of paper even though he was busy working on it all day long. "Let's go home, aru."

They both stood up and headed for the door. They nodded good bye to Tino and Berwald, who just arrived. After receiving quick goodbye's from the Finn and the Swede, Ivan and Yao took off.

They hopped onto the elevator. "The peony is China's national flower, aru," Yao said, staring at the flower Ivan gave him.

The Russian knew this; Yao had already told him before. Though, he had never seen a real peony before. "Da, it is. You learned of that when your mother told you its legend." Yao just smiled at the pink blossom. "Likewise, the sunflower is Russia's national flower," he paused for a second and admired his golden treasure. "It is also my personal favorite."

Yao glanced at him. "Really? How come, aru?"

Ivan looked at him and grinned. "For it reminds me of warm, bright days, when the sun shines magnificently. It is nowhere near the image of cold winters."

"Oh," he began. "So... You don't like the cold whether?"

Ivan shook his head. "No."

Yao had a feeling that this was going to turn awkward soon enough.

_Ding_

_ Thank god._

"Here we are, aru." Yao and Ivan both stepped out of the lift.

"Why don't we drink tonight?" They heard a certain Spaniard's voice.

"What? You fuckard! I'm going to have to come early tomorrow, so I can't drink tonight. And you and I both know what happens after we have a drink, asshole."

The Spaniard smirked somewhat maliciously. "You're right, Love," the Italian scowled at the nickname. "But, how come you have to come early tomorrow?"

"Don't tell me you fucking forgot about it!"

"About what?" The Spanish asked.

Lovino slapped a hand to his face. "The board meeting! Don't you remember?"

"A board meeting, aru?" Yao suddenly stepped in.

"Ah! Hello, there, Yao, Ivan," Antonio greeted. The two nodded.

"Anyway, about a board meeting?" Yao prodded.

"Fuck yeah. The higher-ups said they were going to talk about improvements on the hospital. Facilities, and all. It fucking sucks, really. They scheduled it to be a brunch meeting. And guess who cooks? Me and my ass of a brother," Lovino babbled.

"Oh. Okay, then. Umm... Good luck with that, aru," he said, waving. "Bye, now."

"Yeah, sure. Bye."

"Oh, wait a moment, Yao," Antonio called. He inched next to the Chinese and whispered, "don't get too rough with him, okay?"

"Huh?" That didn't make any sense. "What do you mean, aru?" He asked. The Spanish winked at him, and discreetly gestured to Ivan. He got the picture, and instantly turned a bright shade of red. "It's not like that! Honest! It's not, aru!" He stammered.

"Bye, Yao!" Antonio said waving over his shoulder. He grabbed Lovino by the hand.

"Hey! Not too tight, you ass!" The irritated Italian exclaimed. And with a final wave, Antonio lead him off to somewhere.

"What was that?" Ivan questioned curiously when the two disappeared.

Yao whipped to look at him-he grew redder at the sight of him. "No, nothing! It was nothing, aru! Let's just go. Now." He tugged Ivan by the sleeve of his shirt and dragged him out of the place.

"Da," he plainly said, letting Yao have his way.

_Ho~hum_

"No! Don't do it, Eun Chan! Han Keol's just being stupid!" Yong Soo yelled at the TV screen. As usual, he was watching one of his many favorite dramas.

"There he goes again," Kiku uttered as he set up the table.

"I'm still wondering how he made me come through to let him subscribe to that Korean channel, aru," Yao sighed, sliding meat from the pan to the plate. "Ivan, aru, could you please call Yong Soo? Tell him dinner's ready. Thank you," he told the Russian, who was leaning casually on the kitchen counter. The Japanese brother secretly caught a glimpse of the two. He smiled.

"As you wish," he answered, striding to the living room. He found the youngest brother gawking at the screen, his expression unexplainable by mere words. "Yong Soo," he began, "dinner is prepared."

Without turning away from the screen, he said, "do you like my brother?"

"I... Excuse me?"

"I just asked if you liked Yao-hyung."

Ivan chuckled. His sarcasm wasn't noticed by the other. "I like him as a person."

Yong Soo turned to look at him, his eyes and his tone were serious enough. Even for him. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Then, what is?" Ivan perfectly knew what he was trying to say, he just wanted to divert away from the subject.

"Oh, come on, you know what I mean," he insisted. "So... Do you like him _that_ way?"

"Of course not. That would just be absurd," he laughed.

"Like your story of being his panda?"

"That is a different matter," Ivan said. "Come now, your brothers are waiting." He beckoned the Korean to stand up.

Yong Soo stood up and turned off the TV at the sound of the drama's closing theme. He obliged and went to the dinner table. "You're just avoiding the subject."

"I am not."

"You're not what, aru?"

"I-"

"It's nothing, Yao-hyung," Yong Soo cut Ivan off, somehow, it didn't sound so rude. He had the transition from that serious business tone to the happy-go-lucky tone he always had. "Let's eat!"

And they ate. Like always, after dinner, everyone helped clear out the table. The middle brother did the dishes; the youngest headed straight to the living room, plopped on the couch and switched on the TV again; the eldest sat beside him. Ivan contented himself on the single sofa near the window. Yong Soo snatched the remote from the table and flipped through channels and channels, until he reached the conclusion that nothing good was on. Seeing this, Yao told him to put on the news. He did, and they stared at the screen, having bored expression on their faces. The weather was on.

_Tomorrow, we'll have a nice, sunny morning, but late in the afternoon 'till night, let's expect quite a rainshower over here_, the weatherman circled an area on the map, _so, folks, don't forget to bring your raincoats and umbrellas!_

"Rain, aru?"

"Awwe, man... I hope it doesn't pour much. It's a Friday, too," Yong Soo complained. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot to tell you," he looked at Yao. "I'm going to sleep over at Hong Kong's tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Just make sure you behave yourself, aru."

_Ring... Ring... Ring..._

The Korean brother reached for the telephone on the table next to the couch. "Hello?" There was a pause. He covered the receiver and said, "it's for you, Yao-hyung."

"Huh? Me?" He took the telephone.

Ivan listened intently.

"Well, no, not really," Yao said. "He wants to talk to me after the board meeting. Got it." A pause. "Umm... Okay. I'll keep my schedule free for that, then, aru." A short pause. "Alright. Bye."

"Who was that?" Yong Soo asked the moment his brother put down the phone.

"It was Tino," he answered. "He said the owner of the hospital wanted to talk to me tomorrow. I don't know. He said it was something important, aru."

"Ooooooh... Maybe you'll get promoted!"

"Yeah, right." He glanced at the clock. "Aren't you going to get ready for bed yet?"

He glanced at the clock. "Yeah, I'm going. Nothing good's on, anyway." He stood up and went.

"I want to go to bed now, too, aru..." Yao yawned.

"Go ahead," Ivan said.

"I guess I will." He stood up as his brother did and gave him a nod, then headed to his room.

Ivan was left there, staring blankly into space. Feliks's words echoed in his mind. "What am I so anxious about? I trust that I do not have anything to worry. Isn't that right?" He paused and shook his head. "I must get ready for bed, as well." And with that, he went off to his room, like the other two.

The next half hour passed with everyone doing their just-before-bed rituals. All that was left is for Yao to check on his brothers. He strode into Kiku's bedroom and found him tapping stuff on his computer. He told him to get to bed soon. The Japanese brother nodded and told him the same. Next, he went into Yong Soo's room. He found his youngest brother running down through the pages of the book he'd been reading the past night.

"One more chapter. I promise."

"Make sure of that, aru," Yao said as he stood in the doorway. "Good night."

Yong Soo opened his mouth to say something, but at the last minute, he decided to just keep it to himself for the time being. "Good night."

Yao smiled and left. He headed to his own room and sat on his bed. His mind started running around all over the place again.

_I don't know anymore, aru... _

He sighed; for some unknown reason, he felt completely disappointed with himself. In the midst of his pondering, someone knocked. He stared at the door for a few seconds before he decided to go over and open it.

Two purple eyes gazed longingly at his brown ones.

"I am sorry for disturbing you."

He couldn't stop staring. "N-No. You didn't disturb me or anything..."

Ivan's lips broke into a smile. "I am glad," he said. "I... Would you mind if I spoke to you...?"

"No, I wouldn't mind, aru..." He stepped back, "come in." Ivan walked in, and he closed the door. He dragged the chair from his table, "here." Ivan sat there, and he settled himself on his bed. "So... What did you want to talk about?"

Ivan managed a smile. Truthfully speaking, he was a bit nervous, although he did well in hiding it. "I have been wondering..." He took in a deep breath and kept his eyes unfaltering, "would you ever believe that I have been your panda?"

Yao needed a few moments to take in what he said, and a few more to generate a decent-enough answer. He remained staring at Ivan, who was patiently waiting for his response.

_I... I've... Have I? Will I? Believe him, aru? _

The Chinese blinked away all the fog in his brain.

"I guess... Since I couldn't think up of any explanation as to how you know _that_ much about me and my life... I think it's possible, aru."

Ivan's anxiety seemed to have diminished a great deal at his words. His face lit up, and he sighed at relief. "How fortunate..."

"Why did you ask?"

"Reasons."

"Reasons?" Yao repeated.

"Da. Reasons. I shall tell you everything when the time comes. Or, at least, when I have the chance."

"Nevermind. I'll just drop it, aru. Anything else?"

Ivan held on to his smile. "No. Nothing more. Thank you for your time. Good night."

"Good night, aru."

Ivan put the chair back to its place, and sat on the bed, beside Yao.

"Wait... Don't tell me..."

Ivan nodded. "And I promise to tell you the reason behind this, as well."

"B-But!" He immediately turned to the shade his face had been getting accustomed to. "I-! It's not-!"

How cute.

"Please, Yao. You have trusted me enough up to this moment. What harm would it do to trust me a small degree more?" Ivan had puppy dog eyes.

_Why does he have to make that face?_

Yao sighed helplessly. "Ugh," he half-heartedly blurted out. "Fine. Don't move, aru."

Ivan held still, and soon felt warm lips kiss his cheek, just as he had the night before.

"There," he said, his tone evidently indignant.

"Thank you." Ivan smiled, as serene and as innocent as a child. He stood up and walked to the door. "Thank you and good night."

"G-Good night," Yao called, just before Ivan closed the door.

With a final smile, he left the confused Chinese alone in his room to ponder.

.

..

...

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, please, let me explain. First of all, I updated late because the past week was hell, and it was _not_ fun. ):'^ And I made the chapter longer to, _hopefully_, make up for my absence, since I won't be able to update next week because exams are coming up, and the day after is the college entrance exam. Craaaaaap... TT_TT It's times like these that I pity myself. TT_TT

Anyway, now, if this chapter sucks, then tell me. Please do. Either you give me a review or send me a message, go. I really can't blame you if you think that this chapter sucks. Honest. Just tell me. *grave stare*

Oh, I almost forgot, I wonder if anyone of you could guess what Korean drama Yong Soo was watching... *grins* :D

Duck face: you make the duck face by tucking your lower lip under you upper lip. Try it and look in the mirror-you look like a duck. Like this- :^

For the coming chapters (although I'm not sure if you people would still read this ':D), I have already laid out those RoChu stuff A LOT OF YOU have been pestering me about. xD Just keep in mind the weather forecast. |D

Sorry for the long author's note... :D

\( ^ w ^ )/

Tralalalala...

29 July 2010

1836H


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N:** REALLY sorry for the late update. o3o;

Anyway, I finally learned to appreciate the last chapter. Thanks. :)

R&R

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..

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Chapter 10

He lay there, staring up at the plain, white-painted ceiling. The warm morning sun came seeping through the window and began to creep its way into the room, gradually bathing everything in its aureate light. He sighed heavily; he woke up earlier than expected. A bit _too_ early, perhaps, considering the fact that he hadn't had much sleep the previous night.

He spent a few more minutes the way he was. He wasn't thinking about anything, really. His brain was quite vacant. Thought processing must have worn out-or temporarily ceased, at least. He took in a deep breath. He glanced sideways and continued to stare up again. He didn't notice how much time he was wasting in his unproductive state.

The door creeked open. His brother's lips immediately broke into a childish grin. But, as sudden as it did, as he found his brother in quite a dreary state, his grin disappeared and unfurled into something between a frown and indifference. He was truthfully concerned although his face failed to fully manifest that fact. He shut the door behind him and walked over.

"Yao-hyung?" He began as he sat on the side of his brother's bed. "What's wrong?"

The Chinese turned his head to look at his brother. He beamed. "What do you mean?"

Yong Soo sighed. "Yao-hyung, I know I can be such an ass sometimes, but I'm not stupid. So what's wrong?"

"Nothing is, aru," he simply said, getting back to staring up. His voice sounded a bit husky.

"Seriously, tell me."

"You know what? You're just hungry, aru," Yao said, turning his head again to see his face. "Why don't you just run along and I'll be up in a minute."

Yong Soo frowned and spread a hand on his brother's forehead and the other on his. "Well _that_ explains it. You feel hot, Yao-hyung."

"I _am_ hot," Yao giggled almost stupidly as he finally sat up. Yong Soo made an annoyed duck face, making the elder take him more seriously. "Do I really?" He asked in disbelief. Like what Yong Soo did, he put a hand on his forehead to check, then on his neck. The Korean was right. He wasn't feeling too good, either. "No, I don't, aru," he lied. "Look, why don't you just get going and ask Kiku to make breakfast? It's his turn today, and I'm pretty sure he'll make whatever you ask him to, aru."

"But Yao-hyung-"

"I promise I'll be there in a minute," he said, standing up and ushering him to the door. At the youngest's worried look, he smiled reassuringly and said, "I don't have a fever or anything, okay? I'm perfectly fine, aru."

"But..." Yong Soo could only trail. On his way out, he spotted something. "Hey, wait a minute-what's that?" Yao strained to see what he was staring at. Yong Soo trotted over to Yao's desk to have a better look. "A chamomile and a peony? Where'd you get these? Did... Did Arthur give them?"

As much as he could manage, Yao glowered, indignant at the suspicion. "No. Of course not, aru."

Yong Soo inspected the flowers, completely ignoring his brother's defiance. "Hmm... Figures. Arthur couldn't've given them to you. He would've probably sent you a big 'ol bouquet of this stuff..."

Yao scowled, honestly pissed.

_Anything anyone, or Ivan for this matter, picked would've been a hell lot better than what Arthur could ever give me. _

A mental slap.

_Wait. What am I thinking, aru? _Why_ am I thinking like that? It's not like I'm favoring Ivan or anything, aru... It's just that Arthur's a huge jerk. Yeah. But... N-No, wait... It's wrong. This is wrong. I shouldn't think so immaturely. I'm over it now, aru. And I shouldn't be bitter about anything, at that. Right?_

"So where or who _are_ they from?" Yong Soo poked, snapping Yao away from his mental monologue.

"Well... They're... Ivan picked them, aru." He took the flowers away from Yong Soo and arranged them neatly on his desk again. The youngest sibling smirked, one with an underlying meaning. "What's that look for?" Yao asked. It was obvious. He just wanted Yong Soo to voice something out.

"_Ivan_ did, huh?"

"Well, yeah. He was out walking in the hospital's garden, and he said he saw them and picked them up, aru." Yao didn't even bother to look up from the flowers in question.

The Korean snickered, earnestly amused. "Let's see here, a chamomile... Let me guess, he used the panda excuse and said he remembered that it was your favorite flower, didn't he? But as for the peony..." He furrowed his brows and his lips slipped to a slight pout. "I don't know." The smirk regained its post on his face. "But either way, that's adorable of him," he sniggered. "Would love finally bloom for my dearest Yao-hyung?"

The Chinese simply sighed. Arguing wouldn't help anything. "The extent of your imagination never fails to amaze me at times, Yong Soo, aru. You should be a writer."

"You call evidence imagination?"

"No, it's _not_ evidence of _anything_, aru. And like I said, you're just hungry you're getting delirious." He secured his hands on his brother's shoulders and gently pushed him to the door. "Now, just take a bath, then go to the kitchen and help out Kiku. I'll be out in a minute, aru."

"But Yao-hyung!" He whined.

"Didn't you say you were going to sleep over at Hong Kong's tonight? Why don't you go pack your things now so you wouldn't have to do it later? That way, when you get home in the afternoon, you'd just have to pick your clothes up, then off you go to his house, aru. Now, run along, little boy," he said. Finally, he successfully managed to rid his room of Yong Soo.

"Fine. You can have your way. But you haven't seen the last of me," he uttered just before the door shut. He sighed again. "You know, you should keep an eye on yourself, too, Yao-hyung." He retreated to his own room.

He heard footsteps fade away. Little did Yong Soo know that his brother heard him perfectly.

_Keep an eye on myself, aru? That's... Interesting._

Yao went and fiddled with the stuff on his desk. He took the flowers and gazed at them. He looked at the chamomile; the ends of the petals were starting to wither. The petals that were once white were turning a bit flaxen. He placed it near his nose; it was still fragrant, but the scent was terribly faint. He grinned at it fondly and put it down again. Next, he took the peony. He stared at its pink figure. Unlike the chamomile, it still looked fresh. It still smelt nice, too. It reminded him of some things. He spent a few more minutes fiddling with the flowers, occassionally taking small glimpses out the window. When he somewhat became aware that he got a little too absorbed, he whipped around to look at the time. His grip on the flower tightened.

"Aiyaa, aru!" He exclaimed. "I can't believe I just spaced out like that!"

He ran about the room; he fixed his bed, fetched a decent pair of clothes from his wardrobe, glanced at his phone for any new messages, and all the while stopping every now and then to briefly think about what he was supposed to do next. Abruptly, he was already in the bathroom, rushing a shower. In a span of a few minutes, he stepped out with a towel draped across his waist and, dropping to his shoulders, a shorter one was on his head, one hand vigorously drying his hair. He pulled down the blinds and got dressed. He almost forgot his phone amidst all the alarm.

Yao was panicking, even though he didn't really need to. He just thought it was already _that_ late-even if he's just five minutes behind his daily routine. He calmed himself down a bit and scuttled out of his room. He met Ivan in the hallway. He looked like he just woke up; his silver hair was a mess, and he still had his pj's on.

"Good morning, Yao," he greeted, rubbing his eyes sleepily, but flashing him a serene smile.

"Oh. Ivan. Yeah, aru. Good morning," he said curtly. "Come on. Let's have breakfast." He ushered the tall Russian to come with him, and he obliged.

Ivan noticed something. Yao seemed a bit flushed, although it wasn't the same kind of red his face got. It was different, but somehow, it was also familiar. He was worried, but he decided to keep quiet about it. For the mean time, at least.

The middle brother looked up at him gravely as he appeared with Ivan.

"Good morning, Yao-nii," he uttered as he finished pouring something out from a pot. The eldest nodded and mouthed a reply. "Here's some tea," Kiku added, pushing the cup in front of Yao as he took his seat.

"Huh?" It was the tea that he wanted, the remedy. "What's with...?"

"Yong Soo told me you had a slight fever," he said. Ivan discreetly commenced eavesdropping as Kiku placed a pitcher of orange juice on the table. "How are you feeling?"

"Thanks, Kiku, but _really_. I'm fine, aru. I feel great!"

Quick as a flash, Kiku had his hand sprawled on his eldest brother's forehead; his other hand was on his own. "You _do_ have a slight fever, Yao-nii," he said. Even though his voice was low, Ivan heard this. "Please, drink the tea."

"Kiku, _please _don't tell them," Yao said, almost whispering.

The middle brother nodded. "Just take it easy today, okay? And _don't_ forget to drink the tea. Take some medicine, too."

"I promise, aru," Yao said.

After that, Kiku took his own seat, and breakfast began. Like tradition, they talked about stuff. Ivan and Kiku laughed when Yong Soo made a couple of puns-Yao didn't think it was funny because _he_ was mostly the subject.

"Yong Soo, you do the dishes, okay?"

"Aye, aye, Yao-hyung."

"I'll be in the bathroom if you need anything, aru," he said, trotting to the nearest bathroom. Kiku went to his room and fixed himself for work. Ivan leaned against the counter and watched Yong Soo.

"You want to help?" He offered.

Ivan shook his head and grinned. "No, thank you. I am quite fine as I am."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, ye-"

"Are you really, _really_ sure?"

The Russian chuckled. "Alright. If you insist so fervently, I shall help with drying the plates, then."

"Good, good! Thanks a lot. Here," he said, handing him a clean dish cloth. Ivan took it and dried the dishes carefully. After couple more minutes, Yong Soo's over-active brain generated an idea, which he decided to voice out. "So, Ivan..." He glanced up from the dirty dishes, Ivan looked at him. "I heard you gave Yao-hyung flowers yesterday."

Once again, Ivan smiled serenely. "Da. I did."

"I see..." He nodded. "So, is that a step forward?"

Ivan tilted his head in false confusion. "A step forward?"

Yong Soo smirked mischievously. "You know what I mean."

"Another of your hints, is it not? Unfortunately, I have no knowledge of what you are speaking of."

"Oh, come _on_, Ivan," he whined. He took a glimpse over his shoulder to see if anyone could hear them. No one. "Are you hitting on Yao-hyung or not?"

Ivan let out a childish laugh. Of all the years he spent in the household, he was familiar enough with how Yong Soo gets his points around. He just wasn't too keen on keeping up with this conversation, so he steered it away, "I can assure you that I have never hit Yao before."

"Ugh!" The Korean breathed, exasperated. He gave him the last plate to dry and said, "I didn't mean it literally! Come on, I was asking if you were-"

"If he was...?" Kiku asked.

"Kiku-hyung!" Yong Soo blurted out, startled. He felt his heart pounding like crazy. "Don't just pop in like that, you're gonna give me a heart attack!"

The Japanese brother just looked at him, utterly unamused. "You're not talking about indecent things are you?"

"No! Of course not! I wasn't talking about _that_ sort of things, Kiku-hyung!" He stammered.

"Honestly, Yong Soo..." He just sighed helplessly. He looked up at Ivan, apologetic, and said, "excuse him. And please, _do_ tell me if he... Brings up anything improper."

Ivan grinned. "It is fine."

With a nod, Kiku said, "we'll be leaving now." His tone seemed a bit serious. He nodded and took his youngest brother by the arm.

"Have a safe trip."

"What? We are?"

"Yes. I'm going to drive you to school."

"B-But-!" He protested.

"No but's. Come on. Let's not cause any trouble for him." Kiku pulled him. It damn hurt even though it didn't look that way. "Let's tell Yao-nii then let's go."

"Okay," Yong Soo said, defeated.

Ivan watched them walk out the kitchen.

"Yao-nii, we'll be going now," Kiku called. "I'm driving Yong Soo to school."

"Okay. Take care, aru," Yao yelled from behind the bathroom door.

And with that, the two took off. In the car, Yong Soo sat in the passenger's sear next to Kiku. Somehow, he noticed a small smile crawling its way to his brother's face. It poked both his imagination and his curiosity.

"Hey... What's with the smile?"

Kiku looked at him and evidently suppressed a laugh. "What?"

"Just now. You were smiling. You even looked like you were going to laugh. What's up with that? And _really_, Kiku-hyung, why'd you want to leave right away, anyway?"

The Japanese brother couldn't help himself. He glanced at the house and a giggle escaped from his lips.

Yong Soo broke into a smirk and sniggered. "You sly dog!"

"Ivan?" Yao called as he took his umbrella from the rack. "Oh. There you are," he said when he found him leaning on the counter. He put the umbrella down for a second and fixed his hair. "I left a fresh pair of clothes on your bed, aru."

"Ah. Thank you," Ivan said, his soft, but penetrating gaze making the other look away.

"And... Umm... I'll be pretty busy later, so... I can't bring you to work today, aru. You think you'd be fine if I left you alone? It's just for today, at least."

"Da. Of course. I would be fine. You need not worry about me." He assured Yao with one of his charming smiles. He never seems to run out of them.

"Ah. That's... Good. As for lunch, I'm going to make something quick and you can just heat it up later, okay?"

Ivan nodded.

Yao began making magic in the kitchen. Soon enough, the familiar scent of sautéed garlic lingered in the room, impetuously arousing Ivan's appetite, disregarding the fact that he just had breakfast. He eagerly watched the talented Chinese handle the ingredients skillfully, not messing up anything. Yao has always been meticulous about the food he makes; he always wants everything to be near perfection, if not entirely perfect. Not to mention he still looked pretty energetic despite the fact he wasn't feeling too well.

Ivan knew there was something wrong with him. He was aware that Yao was just doing his best to _seem_ normal and all. Ivan noticed that the redness in the Chinese's face eventually faded, and was replaced by pallor. He felt something, something he hadn't felt for a long while, slushing away merrily in his gut-anxiety, perhaps. His pondering was disturbed when he heard him speak.

"There you go," Yao uttered as he placed a plate of his cooking on the table. "Now, all I have to do is wash these and I'll be good to go, aru." He snatched his apron from the hook and wore it. Then, he dealt with the dirty dishes. He had his back to Ivan, who was still staring at him intently, although hesitant to talk. "Ivan..."

"Yes?"

"About... You know, I... I wanted to thank you, aru..."

"To thank me? Whatever for?"

"Well, for the flowers yesterday... I didn't really say anything about thanking you, right? All I did was get mad and scold you... Look, I'm sorry for that, too. I-I don't want to let that effort of yours go, umm, unappreciated, so I wanted to thank you properly, aru," he stuttered a couple of times. "Thanks for the flowers," he said, finally catching a glance of him from his shoulder. His face regained a bit of color when he saw that Ivan was smiling at him. Like he involuntarily but somehow automatically did, he had it hard to catch his breath when his chocolate brown eyes met with the Russian's glinting purple ones.

"I am truly glad that you appreciate my humble gesture," he said.

"Sure. But remember: don't just pick stuff up randomly, okay? Especially if they're not yours, aru."

"Da. I vowed on that matter."

"Good," Yao said, taking off his apron after he finished the last dish.

_Ring... Ring... Ring... _

"Oh, wait," he took out his phone form his pocket and looked at the caller id. "Excuse me, I have to take this, aru."

Ivan nodded. Yao didn't bother getting out of the kitchen, he didn't really mind if Ivan heard anything. Hey, what was there to hide?

"Right, right. Don't worry. I'm pretty sure that their little brunch meeting would probably end at around noon, aru." A pause. "Okay. Oh, right, didn't you say I'll be talking to him in his office?" Another pause. "What? So he changed the venue. Big deal. That's fine." Ivan heard a few wailing sounds. "Alright. Just calm down, okay? I'll get there soon enough, aru."

"_Hurry!_" Ivan heard someone shriek from the phone.

"Alright already!" And with that, Yao hung up. He pocketed the phone and faced Ivan. "Hey, you could handle stuff here alone, right?" He didn't wait for any answers and instead he continued, "I really ought to get going now, aru. If anything comes up, call me. My number's on speed dial," he walked to the door, and Ivan followed. "And if ever you feel bored, just watch TV, or read, or something, okay?"

"Worry not, Yao. I am positive I can be trusted with these duties."

"Okay, then. I'm going now, aru. Bye," he said, looking up at Ivan's build, towering over him. Before Yao completely turned his back, he felt a big, warm hand sprawled across his forehead.

"You _do_ have quite a fever."

Yao looked up at him, purple eyes momentarily distracting him from thinking. After realizing that Ivan still had his hand on his forehead, color suddenly filled his face; finally, it was the normal kind of red again. With a nervously trembling hand, the flustered Chinese impulsively snatched the other's wrist and took it away. His grip was surprisingly tight.

"I know, aru," he defiantly said. His voice sounded hoarse, but he just coughed it away. He loosened his hold until he completely let go of Ivan's wrist.

The Russian's smile faded. "Please do not exhaust yourself."

"I..." He redirected his vision outside, "I won't. Thanks. Bye, aru." With a quick nod, he took off.

Ivan just watched him. Seeing Yao turn to a corner, he sighed and went inside. He sat on the couch in front of the huge, flat screen TV-Kiku bought that when he first got his salary. One wouldn't believe how big the manga business actually pays.

He stared blankly at the empty screen, and thought. He recalled the weather forecast last night; it was going to be nice and sunny in the morning, but it'll be raining in the afternoon. He was about to reach for the remote when he heard the doorbell ring. He took a quick look over his shoulder before he stood up. When he opened it, a figure of a woman appeared. She had long, beige hair, and bright, sparkling green eyes. She was wearing a frilly apron, and was also holding a plate of sweet-smelling somethings. She smiled enthusiastically at the sight of him.

"Hi!"

"Da... Hello," Ivan said, managing a smile.

Just when he was about to open his mouth to say something, she started excitedly, "hi, there! You were the guy Yao was with the other day, weren't you?" Ivan nodded. "And if I remember right, you weren't wearing a top back then, were you? Oh, I am _so_ sorry if I disturbed anything."

"No, you did not-"

"Say, could I ask you something?"

"Yes, you m-"

"Are you Yao's boyfriend?"

"I..." Everything in Ivan's brain stopped. "Could you repeat that? I believe I heard wrong."

"I said, _are you Yao's _boyfriend?"

He didn't expect that. Really.

"I..." His mouth was left hanging half-open. "That is..."

He paused, making Elizaveta prod, "well?"

"Absolutely not. We are not in any relationship, if that is what you are suggesting," he said, chuckling.

"Oh..." She trailed, evidently dismal. "Are you sure?"

"Completely."

Quick as she went gloomy, she bounced back into energy again and said, "oh well." She smiled a sweet smile and added, "anyway, here," she offered the plate to him-freshly baked sweets. "I was bored so I thought of baking, but you see... I got a little carried away and made a tad too much of these cookies, so instead of stacking them away, I thought I'd give some to you."

Ivan took it. "How generous of you," he gawked at how large the plate was and how much cookies there were. The plate was almost as large as the baking tray in the oven, and the cookies were a huge pile. "Thank you very much."

"It's nothing," she giggled. "Oh, that's right. Where _is_ Yao, anyway?"

"He is out for work," he replied.

"So you're alone?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Okay. Have fun, then!" She happily said. "I better get going now, too. Bye!"

"Good bye," he said. Returning a wave, she skipped back to her house next door. "She is quite the character," Ivan told himself.

He sighed as he put down the plate of cookies on the kitchen table. He got curious and took one. Holding it up, he examined it. Even before, he didn't really like sweets, but he didn't hate them, either. He decided to take a bite. His face lit up. "This is delicious," he uttered. The biscuit itself was nice and soft, and the chocolate chips were delicately melted next to perfection. He finished it in a couple more bites, and he took another one. Chewing away merrily, he took a few more cookies until he ate a little more or less half of it. He went to the fridge and scouted around. He saw the milk carton and grabbed it, then he took a glass from the rack. With a mouthful of Elizaveta's cookies, he took a refreshing gulp of milk. Great. Considering how long he spent being a panda, he almost forgot how awesome it felt to have a full mouth. All that's missing now is a big bottle of vodka.

"I shall take my bath in a few minutes," he planned, contentedly smiling to himself.

He went back to the table and took another one. Munching away, he didn't notice something important was left sitting on the table. An umbrella.

_Yao_'s umbrella.

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**A/N:** Heheheh... n_n; Sorry for the filler chapter. n_n; Umm... Please don't hate my work. 'x) You can hate me, but please, don't hate my work. It has nothing to do with me. :D And about the semi-late update... I'm well aware that writers aren't supposed to have excuses, but... I just really had a tough time. TT3TT And my brain got re-wired, too. TT3TT

Anyway, I learned a new word yesterday. I found it on the class bulletin board. :D

lethologica (n.) the state when you can't remember the word you want

Is Katyusha Ukraine's _official_ name? I need an answer for that... :^ Thanks.

And about the RoChu stuff I was talking about, no, the stuff up there wasn't it. I could do better than that. [LOL such an ass] Anyway, I realized that if I covered up to _that_ part, then... It would be too long for one chapter, trust me. Plus, I would run out of things to write about since there wouldn't be anything left for the 'side plots', and the end would come soon after. So I postponed it, but I promise it'll come up pretty soon.

So, there, I guess. See you 'round.

18 August 2010

1840H


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Hello, there. Congratulations to Ms. Mexico and of course, Ms. Maria Venus Raj.

Also, I hope you read the note at the end. Thanks.

R&R

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Chapter 11

The blonde was skimming through his checklist, he seemed happy for some reason. He looked up and at the sight of him, his lips curved into a timid smile. "Oh. Hello, there. Good morning, Yao," he greeted. His voice was soft, like usual.

The Chinese glanced at him and beamed. "Good morning, Matthew," he replied, a little dryly.

He noticed that Yao was alone. Out of curiosity, he asked, "where's Ivan?"

_Of all things... Why ask about _him_, aru?_

"Oh, Ivan? Well, you see, I'm expecting I'll be busy today, so I told him to stay at home," he croaked, voice low and hoarse.

"Oh. Okay..." The Canadian mumbled, shrugging. He watched him; then, a worried look sprawled itself across Matthew's face. "Hey... You look a bit pale. Are you alright?"

"What? Of course I'm fine, aru."

"But you don't look so good. Come here, let me see," he said, stretching out his hand, reaching for Yao's head-that gesture has been happening a lot lately. The nurse spread his hand on the psychologist's forehead. His brows furrowed. "You're warm, Yao. I'd say your fever's around thirty-nine degrees. Are you sure you should even be here?"

Everyone's saying the same thing.

"Matthew, _honestly_. I don't have a fever, okay? I'm fine," the guilty Chinese defended. "Your hands are just cold. That's all, aru."

"My hands are _not_ cold," he protested. "I assure you, I've never been wrong with these kind of things. Plus, I'm a nurse. I should _at least_ be able to tell whether someone's sick or not."

"Fine. Whatever. But even if I _do_ have a fever, which I absolutely _don't_, it won't stop me from coming to work, aru. Believe me, I have a ton of things to do," Yao sighed. "Look, I appreciate you worrying, but I'm alright. Really." He glanced at Matthew. "Bye."

"Wait a second," he called. "I still think you have a fever. So, since you don't have time to rest or anything... Hold on," his hand delved into his pocket, then took out what appeared to be a tablet. "Mefenamic acid? Oh no, this isn't it," he whispered to himself. He put it back, and tried again. "Carbocistein? No, still not it. Now where is it...?" Yao stared at him as he groped around. He pulled something out again. "Ah. Here we go. Take this," he said as he gave him a capsule.

"What's this?" Yao asked, taking it and eyeing it curiously. He read the foil wrapper-_Paracetamol_.

"Medicine," Matthew said, although it was obvious. "To help cool down that fever of yours."

"Oh. Okay, aru. Thanks, I guess..."

"You're welcome. And to think you're sick... It'll be really ironic to be working in a hospital where the doctors themselves are sick," he giggled, smiling thoughtfully.

True.

"Right," Yao said, grimacing at the remark. "Bye and thanks again, aru."

"Bye," he replied, still smiling.

With a wave, the psychologist went on, putting away the capsule in his pocket. He hopped on the elevator and pressed the number 7 button, like he always does. While he waited, he leaned on the wall and stared at his reflection. Unconsciously, his brain started running around again.

_I've only taken him to work for a couple of days, but... It seems like I've already spent a whole lifetime's worth of elevator rides with him, aru. _He sighed._ Now that I think about it, it feels kind of lonely without him here._

_Ding_

Seventh floor.

He tore himself away from his pondering, stepped out, and started for his office. As he walked down the august hallway, his phone rang. He took it, and glanced at the caller id. Seeing the name, he decided not to answer it, instead, he trotted faster. When he opened the door, as he expected, he saw his secretary on the phone. At the sight of him, the blonde Finn let out what sounded like a squeak.

"Yao! There you are!" He exclaimed. "I was all worried and-good morning."

The Chinese smiled. "Good morning, Tino."

"The director's secretary just called. He said the meeting ended early, so now... He's on his way here," he began. "I suggest you go on in and wait for him." He appeared uneasy at the idea of having the hospital's director-slash-owner paying them a visit.

"Sure. And Tino?"

"Yes?"

"Don't get all nervous, aru."

"What? Me? Nervous? No, I'm not," Tino tried.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," he said, mildly wry.

With that, Yao trudged into his office, expectant of his visitor. The moment he stepped foot inside, he walked over to the windows and fixed the curtains so sunlight could come shining in. As he took a glimpse outside, a thought tapped him. He remembered Ivan had occupied himself with seeing out the window. Without him realizing it, he was missing the happy Russian already. He went back to his oak desk and slumped in his chair. He stared crossly at the pile of papers that lay waiting for him. Even though he always worked on them, his desk never seemed to run out of tedious paperwork. Heaving a heavy sigh, he took them and stacked them up neatly-his office had to look nice and clean. Thankfully, he managed to clear his desk considerably. Then, he leaned back in his chair and waited.

"Now, what could the director possibly want with me, aru?" He asked himself.

Just as he was about to flop down on his desk for a quick catnap, he heard a knock. This woke him up. He stood up and trod to the door. He prepared himself mentally as he took the knob. He swung it open and there, he found another familiar-looking blonde.

The blonde was Swiss, clad in a corporate suit; this was expected, since Tino already mentioned that he had to attend a brunch meeting with all the other board members. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't indifferent, either. He just seemed... _Serious_.

Vash Zwingli.

He wasn't really popular for being a warm, people person, neither was he known for being mean or anything. It's just probably the intimidating air he always has around him, it's the way he talks, and the way he scowls all the time that people don't usually come right up and make friends with him. But, if there's one thing he's known for, it's his relationship with his sister-his precious little sister, Liechtenstein. Other than stocks and shares, she's the only thing he _actually_ seems to care about. In fact, he could sometimes be _too_ over-protective of her that people start thinking he's her father. And even though she's his adopted sister, he never fails to fulfill his obligations as her elder brother.

Vash Zwingli.

His stance, his aura, everything about him spelt respect and authority. This wasn't really surprising, considering the fact that he's quite a prominent man in the business world. He had solid a reputation; he has a few banks in America and in Europe, most of them in Switzerland, and a company that mass-produces high-end guns. Not to mention he owned the relatively new hospital where Yao works in, which opened just four years ago. He hesitated at first, on account of he knew nothing about the medical world, but to his luck, and with the help of a few business consultants, it turned out to be a successful venture. In a span of just a couple of years since its opening, it gained a well-respected image, having international doctors working there, not to mention there have been numerous articles in the newspaper praising the services there. People in and out of the state come swarming in the hospital to have themselves checked and cured.

He scrupled for a moment. He wore a discreetly awkward smile, then pushed through, "good morning, Mr. Zwingli."

"Good morning," he said curtly.

"Why don't you come in?" Yao offered, widening the entrance to let him in. The latter obliged, eyeing the room as he entered. "Please, have a seat, aru," he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. The Swiss did as he was told. Yao situated himself on his own chair behind his desk.

"Dr. Wang," he began.

"Please, Mr. Zwingli, call me Yao, aru." Perhaps he acted a bit too rashly. This earned him an offensive look. "Sorry. Please, go ahead."

"Right... Yao," he continued. "I've looked over the hospital records recently, and I saw that you're the best psychologist we have so far."

_Best_.

The words rang in Yao's head again and again, like a defective CD.

"And because of that, I came here to ask you a favor." His voice forced Yao's brain land back to earth. With a questioning expression on his face, Vash explained, "I want you to take a look at my sister, Liechtenstein. You see, she's been pestering me lately about how she wants to see a psychologist so badly. But when I ask her why, she doesn't really give me a decent answer. All she says is that she's facing a really big dilemma. And I've never seen her so serious about something before." He faltered for a second, but quickly picked up, "I don't know what I should do with her, so I thought I'd let her see a doctor. I wanted the best for her, so I came to you."

"Oh. I see..." Yao trailed.

"You think you can handle that?" He asked, almost taunting, as he smirked.

_Wow. I never imagined _he_ smirks, too, aru. _

"I... Of course, Mr. Zwingli." He still couldn't get over the 'best' thing.

"Alright. So it's settled, then," he said. "When do you think she could start?"

"When?" Yao repeated. "Hmm... I'd have to check that with my secretary first. If you could just wait for a moment, aru." He stood up and headed for the door. "I'll be back in a second. I'll just ask him."

"Sure. Thanks."

Vash heard the door shut closed. His piercing green eyes shredded the room intently, taking in every detail of it. If the objects in there could only melt, they would've turned into puddles at his stare. He glimpsed at the outside; he saw a wall of bright, light blue with a few swishes of white cotton. It was then that he realized how big the building really is. It was only the seventh floor, but all he could see out the windows is the sky. No buildings, no houses, no people, no nothing. Just the sky.

_It's nice here... It makes me want to stop thinking for once. I bet Liechtenstein would like it here, too. _

"Mr. Zwingli, Tuesdays at ten and four, Wednesdays at four, and Saturdays at two. Those are free slots, aru," Yao said as he came in. His words snapped Vash away from lingering deeper into his thoughts.

"Oh. Right. I... I think Saturday would be fine," he said.

"Okay. I'll reserve that later, aru." Yao retook his post behind his desk. "So, are there any more things you want to discuss about?"

The Swiss looked at him. It seemed as if he was asking the same question.

"Well, I don't think so..." He uttered. "I think that's all."

Yao nodded. "Okay, then, aru." He thought for a second. It took him a couple of minutes to shake off the 'best' thing. "Mr. Zwingli, let me mention something," he began. "One of my professors in college always preached about how adults aren't supposed to give in to every single request a child makes, aru. Now, I know how important your sister is to you, but just because she asked to see a psychologist doesn't mean you should readily comply to that. You know, sometimes, kids do that just because they want the adults to pay more attention to them." He sighed. He souned like he was going psychologist on Vash. "But, if bringing her here seems to be the best option, then, I have no right to go against that. Yours is the final decision, after all, aru." He simpered. "Just a tiny piece of advice," he added.

To Yao's surprise, he saw a smile gently spread across the Swiss' face.

"Interesting," he said. "I'll keep that in mind."

Vash stood up and positioned himself in front of the speechless Chinese. He stretched out his hand, and said, "I should get going now. It was nice doing business with you."

Yao was perturbed. He took the other's hand and shook it. "My pleasure, aru," he said promptly. He stood up and escorted him to the door. "Umm... Bye."

"Good bye," he said, skillfully suppressing a grin. Before he completely turned to leave, he glanced back at Yao and said, "one last thing. Call me Vash."

Yao couldn't help himself. All he could do was gawk after him as he left. The sound of the door clicking closed pulled him away from totally spacing out; he blinked away his thoughts and withdrew to the sanctity of his chair. He leaned back lazily and gazed at the ceiling. He redirected his vision to the clock that hung gloomily on the wall. Like he has been doing since that morning, he heaved a sigh.

"It's almost lunch, aru..." He breathed. "I'm not hungry yet."

He stayed like that, his head being blank. He his neck and face gradually grow warmer; he felt the atmosphere's temperature drop. He chose to close his eyes and take a short nap, which he failed to have earlier. The clock chiming twelve was not enough to wake him up.

...

"Da, how refreshing."

He stepped out of the bathroom. A towel was dangling dangerously around his waist; water dripped happily from his shiny silver hair. He took and held up the clothes that lay on his bed, smiling gratefully as he put them on. Oh, if Yao could only see him, he would've been pleased with himself for choosing the right stuff for him. When he finished fixing himself, he headed straight to the living room and sank down the couch, squirming around until he found a comfy spot where he settled. Unknowingly, his consciousness slipped away, with the sound of the clock's ticking lulling him into peaceful slumber.

...

"Hmm... I wonder why he still isn't even peeping out... And it's half past twelve, too," Tino thought aloud as he worried quietly. "What do you think?"

"M'ybe he's b'sy," Berwald answered. He sat comfortably on the Finn's chair as the smaller blonde paced. "Why dn't you ch'ck on h'm?"

"Good idea." He went to the door and knocked. "Yao?" He called. "I'm coming in, okay?" He came in and saw the Chinese sleeping on his chair. "Umm, Yao? Could you wake up now?" Tino tapped him lightly. "Come on, it's time to wake up now..."

Yao stirred. "Mmm...?" He found his secretary hovering over him, anxious. "Tino? What...?"

"You were sleeping. I hate to wake you up, but..."

"It's fine. Thanks, aru." He stretched.

"You haven't eaten any lunch yet, have you?"

"No, not yet, aru," he yawned.

"Why don't we get you something to eat, then?" The blonde insisted.

"No. I wouldn't... I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah. Thanks, anyway. You go on and eat with Berwald now, aru."

"What? How d'you know?"

"Well, it's hard to forget when I see him waiting for you every lunch."

"Right... Well, I'm going." Tino blushed a bit. Before he turned away, he reminded, "Raivis Galante at one, okay?"

The unusually exhausted doctor smiled. "Okay, aru."

Yao watched him leave. He folded his arms across his table and wearily rested his head on them. He remained as is, letting time stroll by casually. He stayed that way until someone lightly knocked on the door again.

"Come in, aru," he said. When he spoke, it felt as though his throat was being scratched. It was awfully painful. As he held up his head to see who it was, the child he was waiting for appeared, his violet eyes glimmering in dampness. "Raivis," Yao said as he helped the boy to his seat. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yes..." He sniffed with a nod.

_Ho~hum_

"Umm... Arthur?" Peter began as his grip on his brother's collar tightened.

He was riding on Arthur's back, slightly ruffling his neat suit. Peter made him promise that morning, and although the older blonde knew it would ruin his suit, he gladly obliged. They were in the lobby, heading to Yao's office for Peter's session. The young women that saw them grinned; it was quite a rare but undoubtedly adorable sight to see.

"Yes?"

"Could you keep a secret?"

"Why, of course I can. Why do you ask?"

"Well because... I wanted to tell you my latest secret," he said, his voice filled with contained excitement.

"Oh, really, now? And what might that be?"

"Wait. You _promise_ to keep it a secret? Just between us?"

"Of course."

"You have to swear." He let go of his brother's collar and held up his hand with his pinky sticking out in the air. "Pinky promise."

Arthur smiled reminiscently at the gesture. "Alright. I promise." He took the child's pinky with his own. "Now, what's your secret?"

"You have to keep quiet about this, okay?"

The Briton sniggered at earnest amusement. "How can it be called a secret if neither of us is going to keep quiet about it?"

Peter thought. "You're right. well anyway, here it goes." He took in a deep breath and said, "you see... Yesterday, I had-I _finally_ had..." He gulped and mirthfully chirped, "I finally had my first kiss, Arthur!"

He thought again. He must've heard wrong. "What did you say?"

"Not so loud!" Peter hushed. His warning was louder than Arthur's question. He had an innocently happy smile on his face. One hand over his mouth, he whispered, "I said, _I had my first kiss yesterday_!"

"What? You had your first kiss? I-Wha-Who was it?" Arthur was honestly surprised. He didn't expect that from his little brother.

"A kid. I met him yesterday in 's office-"

"_Him_? You mean, he's a _boy_?"

"Yeah!" He giggled. Arthur was going to open his mouth to say something, but Peter continued, "like I was saying, I met him yesterday. He said his name was Raivis. He was crying, and I couldn't figure out a way to make him stop so I kissed him. And it actually worked! Then after that, I left him alone in the waiting area since I had to come in doctor Yao's office." He smirked mischievously. "And you know what, Arthur?"

"I... What?"

"I didn't know kissing was fun."

"Peter!" He scolded, but eventually got cut off.

"How come you never told me about _your_ first kiss?"

"I... What?" He uttered. He turned a bright shade of red as he recalled _his_ first kiss. It was a terribly good thing Peter couldn't see his face, or else the kid would tease him.

"Well? Aren't you going to tell me?" Peter prodded.

"Peter," he hesitated, "you know, first kisses aren't usually talked about. And, aren't you a little too young to be talking about those kind of things?"

"No, I'm not! Come on, tell me! I won't tell it to anybody, I promise!"

Well, sure Peter keeps all of his promises, but... He wouldn't _dare_ tell the kid that his first kiss-_and_ his first love-was the child's psychologist. It'll be as embarrassing as hell. He gulped. He can see it now: no doubt, Peter would tease and irritate him to no end. And God knows how annoying he can be when he wants to.

"Ah, here we are," he said, hopeful to change the subject. They were just a couple of steps away from Yao's office. "Now, why don't you get down?"

"But-!"

"Hello, there, Peter," Tino greeted warmly as they entered.

Lucky for Arthur, Tino was enough to distract him.

"Mommy!" The child exclaimed as he came running into the inviting arms of the Finn. "I missed you!"

"So soon?" He giggled. Somehow, being called his 'mom' sank in smoothly, that it sounded very natural. He was actually starting to like being addressed that way. "You were just here yesterday," he added, cradling Peter in a soft, gentle embrace.

"Of course!" His voice was muffled since his face was buried in the older blonde's chest.

Arthur smiled as he watched the two.

"Alright, then. Now, be a good boy and do what Dr. Yao tells you, okay?" Tino told him.

"I promise!"

Peter gave the Finn a final hug and went back to his brother. With a nod and a grin, Arthur steered the child into the waiting room.

"Of course," Yao said as he ushered his little patient out of his office. "Since you said one o'clock was more convenient, I've arranged the schedule that way, aru. So I'll see you on Monday again, okay?"

"Okay," Raivis said, his face free of tears. "Bye, Dr. Yao!" Receiving a wave from the Chinese, he smiled and turned to leave. He saw Peter with a wide grin across his face.

"Hi, Raivis!"

"P-Peter!" He stammered. "H-Hi..."

"Come here, quick!" He took the Latvian by the hand and faced his brother. "Arthur, this is Raivis. The one I told you about," he said, enthusiastic.

"Told him about?" Raivis trailed in almost a whisper.

"Oh. Hello, there. Pleased to meet you, Raivis," the Briton said, reaching out his hand. It was quite odd; he didn't find meeting his brother's first kiss amusing or anything. "I'm Peter's brother, Arthur Kirkland."

"Hi... I'm Raivis Galante. Nice to meet you," he said as he shakily took Arthur's hand.

"Peter," Yao called, beckoning him. "Come on, it's your turn now, aru."

"I'm coming!" He looked at Raivis and said, "well, I guess I'll see you again some other time." And to his brother, "don't be late, okay?" Without waiting for any answers from the two, he took off, frisking jocundly into the room.

Just before Yao completely disappeared, he caught a glimpse of Arthur. The Briton beamed and waved at him. He just answered with a smile, one without warmth or feeling, then he closed the door. The happy look on the Briton's face slid off, being replaced by one of remorse. He sighed and decided to leave. His mind was too occupied with repenting that he took off, not regarding the Lett that watched him gravely.

"I... I guess he still hates me..." He rumbled to himself as he marched to the elevator. He rode it down, until it reached the lobby, where he got off. He had already planned to wait for his brother until he finishes his session.

The fuzzy-minded Briton began to walk aimlessly, letting his feet take command. He only blinked when he noticed that he was already outside, strolling in the garden. He spotted a bench near the rose and iris patches, and sat there. He leaned back and stared at the flowers, who in turn, stared back at him. In the background, he heard a voice drift, singing a song. The tune was familiar, and so was the voice. Though, he didn't bother to take a look at who it was. His brain was telling him to stop all thought process, and reboot afterwards. Suddenly, he heard the singing come to a halt.

"Mind if I sit here?"

Even though he was already depressed, he still held on firm to his pride as being a _gentleman_. The Briton reluctantly looked up. At the sight of the newcomer, the dentist, he instantaneously took up a more respectful stance.

The dental physician suppressed a chuckle.

"Oh... It's you. Go ahead," Arthur spoke, inching near the edge of the bench to accommodate him.

"Thanks," Alfred said as he sat down next to him. "I didn't expect seeing you here. And I hope you don't mind me saying, but, you look worse than yesterday. Did something happen again?"

Arthur glanced at him. His brain managed to resume functioning, although not entirely. He still couldn't get the thought of what happened out of his head. "You say I look worse than yesterday?" He scoffed. He sighed again then let it go. He admitted he wasn't in the right state to get angry, or retort, or even to respond. He didn't even have the mental strength to argue.

"Well, yeah. But if you don't want to answer that, then, you don't have to," he caught.

Arthur didn't say anything. Instead, he just gazed blankly at the flowers that vainly fluttered about. Alfred noticed this.

"You know, I was the one who suggested putting roses here." Arthur gave him a curious look, so he continued, "I was going to pull out one of Liechtenstein's teeth when she told me she wanted to put a garden behind the hospital. That's when I suggested to put some roses. Oh, that's right," he said thoughtfully, "Liechtenstein's the hospital owner's sister, by the way." He gazed at the flowers, then smiled at the Briton. He was surprised to see Arthur was staring at him, but his face seemed quite indifferent.

"Really..."

"Yeah."

"I like roses," Arthur stated, somewhat apathetic. "Especially really, really red ones."

"Really?" Alfred asked, as if he couldn't believe what he heard. "Well, if that's the case, then..." He stood up and squatted near a rose bush. He spotted a nice, big one-the reddest he could possibly find-and reached out for it. The other blonde just watched him, nonchalant. The American did his best not to wince when a thorn planted itself on his finger. He tugged on the rose and succeeded on procuring it. Then, he brought it back to Arthur. "Here you go."

He held the rose a few inches away from the other's face. The gesture finally ripped the Briton away from his daze; he took the liberty of carefully taking in what was happening.

"I... What... Is this for me?"

"Well, I don't see anyone I'd rather give it to," Alfred said, almost deadpanning.

"Oh. That's... I... Thank you," he said, taking it. He saw a trickle of blood on Alfred's finger. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"Nope." He motioned to his little cut. It was stinging a bit, but he wouldn't say that, naturally. "This is just a scratch. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh. Umm... Alright, then." Oh, God, he was starting to forget that he was supposed to be a _gentleman_. "Sorry about that."

"Nah, it's fine." He was happy to give him a flower, even if it costed him a small cut.

"If you don't mind me asking, umm... Why do this?" He kept the flower over his face, partially covering his nose. The light blush on his face was emphasized when he did that.

"Why?" The dentist repeated. "I dunno... No, wait-that's not right. Well, you know, it's actually 'cause..."

_Am I ready for this? _

He faced him. "Okay," he took a deep breath and said, "I know this might come as a shock for you, but, I have this feeling in my gut that's telling me I just have to tell you this..."

The Briton had a hunch where this was going.

"Listen," he took another deep breath and attempted, "I like you, okay? I'm guessing this is what Francis always talked about, the love at first sight thing." He suddenly realized what he just said. "W-Wait! I'm not really sure if this _is_ love or not, but trust me, I'm positive that I like you. A-A lot," he stammered. He couldn't look straight at him after saying that.

Arthur stared at him. He never expected anything like _that_. Alfred was right. It _was_ a shock. A _huge_ shock. To think, he was already bombarded with the news about Peter's first kiss, he didn't think he could handle another thing hitting him by surprise like that.

Alfred looked up through his glasses with puppy dog eyes. "Are... Are you mad?"

He couldn't move his lips too well. "I... I'm not..."

Both of them felt cold water in their hair.

Rain.

"Take cover!" They heard someone scream from a distance.

They both scurried hurriedly into the building. They were both wet, but not as much as the others, who were soaked.

.

..

...

* * *

**A/N:** I'm pretty sure you all heard about the hostage crisis recently. Truthfully, when I was watching the news, I couldn't breathe right, my hands and feet were cold as ice, and fuck, hell knows how infuriated I was. I was so damn frustrated with what I was watching, I didn't notice I was already cussing my mouth off. *sigh*

Condolences to the families of the victims who were killed in the incident. To Hong Kong and its people, as a humble member of my race, I give you my sincerest apologies.

That's all I have to say.

Bye.

25 August 2010

2236H


	13. Chapter 12

_**A/N:**_ Okay! *punches air*

Last Friday, I found out what the clothes the doctors and interns wear were called. _Scrub suits. _I dunno... I just asked a dentist I happened to pass by.

PS: I didn't know him. :D

R&R

* * *

...

..

.

Chapter 12

The green-eyed blonde patted his head to rid his hair of water.

"Awwe, man... My glasses got wet," Alfred complained as he squinted to glare at the raindrops that obscured his view. "Sheesh..." He took them off and wiped the lenses with the hem of his blue scrub suit. He looked at Arthur, his vision a bit unclear. "You okay?"

The Briton glanced at him. He was about to open his mouth and tell him he was fine, but the moment he met the dentist's eyes, he was instantly... _Smitten_. He never knew how captivating the American's eyes were. Neither did he know how... _Attractive_ Alfred looked when he had his glasses off. Arthur suddenly forgot what he was supposed to do, but somehow, he still held on to the rose. He was helpless; he ended up spoiling himself as he indulged in gazing at him. It seemed he was too absorbed that he didn't notice the owner of the eyes had frowned.

"Hey, Arthur, you alright?" He asked again, putting back his spectacles.

"What? Oh. I... Yes. Yes, I am. What about you?"

"I'm fine," he said, grinning. Arthur turned a light red at the sight of that charming grin.

"Hey! Are there any dentists here?" A loud blonde came bursting through the door, strutting clumsily.

"Shut up, Denmark. You're making a scene," another said, shortly following the first. His hair was a light primrose and his eyes were a solid indigo. He was wearing something that looked like a sailor suit.

"Wait for me," a third came, trailing behind the first two. This one had beige hair and ripe grape eyes.

"Hey! Are there any dentists here? My tooth's aching really, _really_ badly! Honestly, if this keeps up, I don't think I'm gonna live through the afternoon!"

"I said, _shut up_, Denmark," the one wearing the sailor suit emphasized. He sounded really annoyed, but his face lacked any expression. "Anyway, it's best if you don't make it through the afternoon," he grumbled.

"I'm a dentist!" Alfred volunteered as he waved a hand. The three stared at him.

"Norway, do you think we could trust him?" The third asked.

"I'm not so sure, Iceland..."

"Thank God! Finally!" Denmark exclaimed, his hand on his jaw. He trotted to where Alfred was, leaving the two behind.

"What an idiot..." Norway sighed as he looked at him.

"Could you, like, do something about my tooth? It's hurting a fucking lot like hell!" Denmark whined noisily. "Pleeeeeease?"

"Sure thing! Let's see what I can do," Alfred said. He turned to Arthur for a second and whispered, "excuse me, I'll just handle this." The Briton nodded. "And by the way, you don't have to answer anything," he added, still low. "But in any case, if you don't want to think about complicated stuff anymore, then, you could just say '_yes_'," he said, smirking playfully. With a cheery salute, he went off, leading the loud Danish to his clinic. His companions followed quietly.

"Oh, finally, finally, _finally_!"

Norway sighed again. "I thought your tooth hurt?"

"It does! So fucking much!" Denmark sobbed.

"Then, why aren't you shutting up?"

Arthur watched them turn at a corner. It went very silent the moment they left. He blinked away and his gaze landed on the rose he still had in hand. He twirled it, examining it curiously. He put it close to his nose and took in the fragrance; it was nice and sweet. His lips curled into a smile. He had always given a certain someone flowers, but it was his first time to be receiving one. The change was nice.

He glimpsed around to see if anyone was there. No one. Concluding that he won't be having anything better to do, he decided to just loiter-err, have a stroll around the hospital. So, he trudged down a hallway that he found empty.

"I feel _so_ tired..." The Canadian nurse moaned. He walked in just when Arthur disappeared. "The kids were such a handful..."

"Well then, Matthew," another began, it seemed that he was prodding the nurse, "when we get home, why don't you and I-"

"Francis! I said not _here_! Never at work!" Matthew stammered, his voice soft and demure as ever. He covered his French companion's mouth with his hand. He had always told him not to bring personal affairs to work, although Francis never seemed to comply with what he wants. And sometimes, err, _most_ of the time, he even persuades the kindly nurse to do what _he_ wants. "And weren't you listening? I said I'm tired!"

Francis took the Canadian by the wrist, making sure he was holding it tight, but careful enough not to hurt him. "Then, why don't you ask me to do something about it? I'm quite positive that a skilled physician like me could do something to make you feel better." He smirked. "A _lot_ better."

Oh, God, his voice was so inviting, Matthew thought. He mentally blew away his thoughts.

_Not here. _

"No."

"Awwe, couldn't you spare me this _one_ chance?"

"No, I cannot and will not _spare_ you this time, and no, this isn't _one_ chance. You've done it plenty of times," Matthew puffed, pouting.

The French looked at him, his eyes glinting with reluctant restraint. "Then, what's one more? It wouldn't make much of a difference," he persisted.

"Ugh. Forget it," he said, clearly exasperated. Although he was really pissed off, his voice still sounded soft and calm. "I still have work to do. Bye." He was about to stalk off to somewhere when Francis caught his wrist again, then, he pulled him close.

"I look forward to making you feel better tonight," he breathed in his ear. He gave Matthew a small kiss on the cheek before he let go of his hand.

He immediately grew red and was momentarily speechless as he stared at him with a soft frown on his face. "I... I'm going," he said, then stormed off without looking back.

Francis seemed extremely satisfied.

...

"That's right... I never thought of it that way... You're a genius, Berwald!" Tino exclaimed. "You know, you should help me out with planning these things more often." He typed something down on his computer; he seemed really excited about it. He looked at the Swede and smiled. "Thanks for that."

Berwald nodded curtly.

"Hey, I hear a noisy little kid chattering in the waiting room," Tino began, grinning. "I guess his session's just ended."

"Remember what we did, okay, aru?" Yao said, making sure his voice sounded acceptably normal.

"I will!" Peter blurted out.

"And practice those exercises, too."

"I promise!"

"Okay, so I'll see you on Monday." The psychologist looked around; there wasn't any sign of Arthur. He frowned. "I see your irresponsible brother still isn't here." He sighed, truthfully irritated. "Just when I told him to pick you up early, aru..."

The door cracked open and Tino came in with Berwald behind him.

"Umm... Hi, Yao," the Finn said at the sight of him.

"Hi, Tino. Hello, Berwald, aru. Why're-"

"Mommy!" Peter squeaked, running toward Tino.

"Mommy?" Yao repeated.

"It's a long story," Tino chuckled as he took Peter.

"Hmm?" Yao was honestly curious. But since he didn't feel like asking, and since he knew perfectly well that there were still other days, he decided to drop the subject at that. "Umm... Okay, then."

"Yao? Are you okay?"

"Of course I am, aru."

"Are you sure? You've been like that since this morning..."

"I'm fine. Really," he said. "Hey, you wouldn't mind taking care of him, would you? Just until Arthur comes back, that is."

"Don't worry about it. I got it."

"Alright. I just... Need to do a few stuff, aru."

Tino knew what it meant. "Okay. Leave it to me." He smiled reassuringly as he sat down the couch.

"Thanks."

"Oh, and Yao?"

The Chinese turned around. "Yes?"

"Please, don't ride yourself too hard, okay?"

He grinned. "Sure thing. Thanks."

"If you need anything, call me."

"I will, aru," he said, finally closing the door. He retreated to his office to rest and left the three of them in the room.

"He d'sn't l'k too g'd."

"I know. I tried getting him to eat something, but he just doesn't want to..."

"Is Doctor Yao sick?" Peter butt in.

"Yes, he is, Peter. Now, I hope you didn't cause him too much trouble while you were inside."

"I swear, I didn't." He raised his right hand, as if reciting an oath.

"That's good, then," the Finn said, snuggling him. The child giggled happily. Berwald sat down beside them and watched.

Peter glanced over Tino's shoulder. "Daddy, how come you're quiet?"

"D'ddy?"

"Why?" He asked curiously. "Aren't you my daddy?" His eyes yearningly hoped for a yes.

"Peter, let me explain. Berwald here isn't daddy... You see, there's a lot of things-"

"B-But..."

"It's f'ne. I'll b' h's d'ddy," he said, putting a hand on the Finn's shoulder.

Peter's face lit up with a grin. Tino found it hard to believe what he just heard. In fact, he was too deeply submerged in his disbelief that he didn't feel anything when the Swede took the child from him.

"Th'n, T'no w'll be m' w'fe," he told Peter.

"Really?" Berwald nodded. "Yay! Now we're a family!"

_Wife. _

That word came ringing in Tino's head. He took his time letting the Swede's words sink in.

...

He apathetically stared at his reflection on the clear, polished door. He was too occupied with his hazy, unorganized thoughts that he wasn't aware his fingers were still fiddling with the red rose he held, until he jerked, wincing at a sudden pain. He took a glimpse at his hand. He found his index finger had a gradually growing blob of blood; he realized a thorn had pricked him. He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped it clean, leaving a small stain on the cotton. After a minute of pressuring out the blood, the bleeding stopped. He breathed heavily. Then, he noticed it took longer than usual to reach the seventh floor, so his eyes darted at the top of the door to see which floor he's in.

_11_

"What?" He looked at the panel of numbers. Number 14 was lit up. He must've pressed the wrong number. He scowled and pressed the 7 button. "_Seriously_."

He leaned on the wall and massaged his forehead.

_Arthur, you are vexing. Truly vexing. You need to get a hold of yourself. Just because certain things have happened today, it absolutely does _not_ mean you are allowed to stray from your logical train of thought. You're a gentleman, aren't you? Then, keep yourself together. Now is just not the time to be acting this way. Be an adult. You're not a child. _

He sighed.

"Although... I still wish I could be..."

_Ding_

He got off the elevator and stode to Yao's office. "Alright. All I need to do now is to pick Peter up and head straight home." He went in the consulting area. No one was there. "Hmm..." Next, he went in the waiting room, he found three blondes having a fairly good time on the couch. They all paused at the sight of the flustered Briton. "Peter?"

The child stopped laughing, but remnants of a smile were evident. "Arthur?"

"What? I... Don't you finish your sessions at three?"

"Uh-huh."

"Huh? I don't understand..." He espied at his watch and saw it was already a quarter past four. He was surprised. He expected to be early this time. "Oh no. Bloody me..." He mumbled. "I'm so sorry I'm late again, Peter. And Tino, Berwald, I'm terribly sorry for troubling you with him."

"Oh, no worries, Arthur. It's fine with me," Tino said cheerily.

"It's f'ne."

"Thank you for looking after him," Arthur pressed.

"It's alright. Really," the Finn insisted.

"Right. I'll be taking him now," he said, walking over to them to fetch his brother.

Tino gave Peter back, a minute drop of sadness seeped into him when he let go. He did his best to look happy, though. The grin on Peter's face shrunk.

"I'll just be asking Dr. Wang something," Arthur said as he turned to Yao's door.

"Oh, wait. Please don't," Tino said.

"Why not?"

"He's taking a rest. He's been busy, you see..."

"What? Is he ill?"

"Well, he wasn't looking so good since this morning, so I suggest just leaving him be."

"Oh. Is that so?" Arthur muttered. The Finn nodded. "Alright, then." He stood by the door, Peter in possession. "Thank you Tino, Berwald, for keeping an eye on Peter," he said, nodding apologetically.

"Like I said, it's fine," Tino assured, smiling.

"Alright. Good bye," Arthur said.

"Bye, mommy, daddy," Peter trailed, waving a hand over Arthur's shoulder.

"Bye, Peter," Tino answered, waving, as well.

"Bye, Pet'r," Berwald uttered.

And with that, the Briton left, carrying his brother. Together, they journeyed through the hall and down the lobby.

"You have a daddy now, too?" Arthur babbled. He decided that talking to Peter would hopefully distract him.

"Yeah. He agreed to be my daddy earlier," the smaller blonde giggled.

"Hmm... I wonder... What about me?"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"I'm going to be alone, since you have a new mommy and a new daddy now..." He pouted.

"Don't be silly, Arthur! I'm still here! And I'll always be." As a building habit, he held up his pinky. "I promise."

Arthur smiled. "If you say so, then." Like he's been doing often lately, he took Peter's pinky with his own.

"And what about the dentist we met a few days ago? I'm sure he'd like to keep you company..." The child said innocently. "He seems pretty nice."

_Oh, Peter... Just when I thought I could finally distract myself, you bring him up... _

"Oh my..." Arthur muttered when they reached the entrance. It was raining hard. _Very_ hard. He put down his brother for a second and took off his formal jacket. "Alright. Now, Peter, since we don't have an umbrella, I'm going to put my coat over you and we'll run to our car, you understand?"

"Yes, captain!"

He wrapped his jacket around the boy, carried him, and charged into the rain. To their luck, the car wasn't parked very far away, and Arthur was quick enough with his fingers that they didn't spend much time out in the raging rain. When the both of them managed to hop on, Arthur was quite drenched. Fortunately, Peter didn't get wet, except for his socks and the hem of his pants.

"Are you alright?"

Arthur looked up at him and flashed him a reassuring smile. "Of course I am."

The lad frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he answered, taking his handkerchief and sprawling it over his head, briskly drying his hair.

"Well, I hope you don't catch a cold."

"I won't." He noticed it got quieter. The rain outside had greatly subsided. "Strange..." He started the car and drove off.

...

_A field of golden flowers danced merrily in the gentle afternoon breeze. He, being the youth that he is, settled himself on the ground, free of care. He smiled at immaculate content as he stared up at the aureous flora that lay artfully against a clear, blue canvass. _

_ "Vanya!" A voice he knew called him. _

_ He sat up and glanced around to see where the voice was coming from. A small distance away, he saw her hurrying toward him, holding what looked like a long, thick, strip of fabric dangling from her arms. _

_ "Vanya..." She panted as she sat down beside him. Her beautiful, cherubic face held an unrestrained smile. Her azure eyes twinkled with excitement while her flaxen hair blew along with the wind. "Vanya, look here," she held up the thick strip of pink fabric she clutched tightly. He leaned close for a better view. "I made this scarf, Ivan," she explained. "Winter will be coming soon and I want you to keep warm and wear this always." She offered it to him. _

_ "Thank you, sister," he uttered as he took it. _

_ "Let me help you with that," she enthusiastically insisted, standing on her knees to needlessly assist him wrap the scarf around his neck. She sat back and gazed at her brother. She sighed in awe. "You look very lovely, vanya." _

_ "Ukraine... Thank you for this," Ivan said. He loosened the scarf; it reached up to half his face; his eyes peeped over the pleasantly smooth cloth. Even if it was ridiculously long, he was truly grateful to his sister. "I trust that this would keep me warm in the winter," he added. _

_ "Of course it will," she pressed. "And I trust that you shall grow into it." _

_ "Brother!" A horridly familiar voice rang. _

_ The happy moment between brother and sister was put to a quick halt. The both of them whipped around to see where she is. There, across the sunflower field, their youngest sister came running toward them, grasping a bouquet of blue flowers in her hand. _

_ "Brother! Come now, I wish to become one with you!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs as she picked up her pace. Her lethal blue eyes were kept nailed to him; the menacing look in her face was terrifying. _

_ Her figure sent a chill to run down his spine. _

_ "No! I don't want to, Natalia! Leave me be!" _

_ "Run, Ivan! You must escape!" Ukraine stammered. _

_ He didn't need her to tell him that. He was already running away. This was one of the usual wild goose chases the three of them had. Ivan was too focused on keeping an eye on Natalia that he completely ignored the rock standing in the way. _

Blag

_He tripped flat on his face. "Ouch..." He breathed, cursing low under his breath as he pushed himself up. He heard a shrill scream from behind. When he turned his head to see what it was-_

_ "Marry me." _

He opened his eyes. He was panting heavily, and a few beads of cold sweat ran down the side of his face.

_A dream_, he thought.

"_How... Nostalgic,_" he scoffed.

Ivan blinked away his blurred vision and ran a hand across his face. He sat up on the couch and shook his head. He looked around and saw he was still in the living room. He sighed and noticed it was dark outside; it was raining lightly. He glimpsed at the clock, expecting to see the short hand to be somewhere between six and seven, but to his astonishment, it read a half past four. His brows slightly furrowed at the realization. A thin thread of anxiety uncoiled itself to him.

"Yao?" He called. No answer. He sighed.

"Hello?" A certain Korean's voice echoed from outside. If Ivan didn't know better, he would've readily reached for his pipe and stood his guard. Fortunately, staying for thirteen years in the house was enough to recognize the three siblings' voices.

"Yao-hyung? You home yet?" He barged in the door and stepped into the living room.

"He has not yet returned," Ivan stated.

"Huh? It's already four thirty. I guess he's probably busy..." Yong Soo made a duck face. "Anyway, I just came to pick up my stuff. I'll be staying at Hong Kong's tonight. Don't worry, Yao-hyung already knows," he told Ivan as he went to his room.

"Da." He plopped back onto the couch. His thoughts wandered. A couple of minutes later, Yong Soo walked in again.

"Hey, umm... I'll be going now, okay?" He said, as he fixed his jacket. "If you get hungry or anything, there's food in the fridge." Ivan nodded and he turned around, but whipped back, "oh, and if you get bored, Glee's on tonight on Fox." He smirked.

"Da. I shall remember that," he answered with a smile.

"So, okay. Bye."

"Bye."

With a final nod, he took off.

Ivan sat back and waited for the sound of the door to click closed. A few minutes later, he heard the sound of the rain's onslaught, its heavy drops drumming violently against the windows. He stood up and looked out the window. An adorable but worried frown settled itself on his face.

_This is not good. He is afraid of the thunder._

He started pacing around the house. When he reached the kitchen, he pulled a chair from under the table and sat. His eyes widened as he spotted something.

_Yao's umbrella? _

...

_Ring... Ring... Ring... _

He stirred at the sound of his phone. He floundered around until he managed to get a hold of it. Without looking at the caller id, he picked it up.

"Hello, aru...?" He croaked, rubbing his eyes. When he spoke, he felt like his throat was being scrubbed with sandpaper, and God knows how painful it was.

"_Yao-nii? Are you alright? What happened to your voice?_"

"Huh? Kiku? Uhh..." He coughed. "Nothing. I'm fine. Anyway, why'd you call?"

"_Well, I wanted to tell you I'll be staying over at Heracle's tonight. We still have to meet up with the deadline tomorrow morning, so we're going to have to do an all-nighter._"

"Oh. Okay, then. Well, take care of yourself, aru," he said, voice still hoarse.

"_I will. And, sorry I couldn't make dinner tonight._"

"What're you talking about? It's fine, aru."

"_Alright, then. And Yao-nii?_"

"Yes?"

"_Please get some rest._"

"I'll try to do that," he chuckled.

Yao heard a sudden burst of panicking through the line.

"Kiku? What happened?"

"_Yao-nii, one of our artists fainted. I have to go now. Bye._"

"Umm... Alright. Bye, aru."

Just before Kiku hung up, Yao heard him ask frantically, "is he still breathing?"

The psychologist sighed. He looked around the room and his eyes came across the clock.

"Four thirty?" He read, raising a brow. "I didn't know it was _this_ late, aru..." He stood up and stretched. "I guess I should go home now." He reached for the rack where he usually hangs his umbrella. "What?" He was dumbfounded. "Where is it?" He looked around. No umbrellas anywhere. "Oh no..." He circled his office, searching, groping around for it. "I'm pretty sure I had it this morning, aru..."

He tried. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, he would never find it. He still hasn't realized, or more appropriate, _accepted_ the fact that he left it at home. Until he got tired of looking.

"Shoot..." He sighed, defeated. He coughed a few times, relieving himself from the incredibly irritating itch in his throat. "How am I supposed to get home, aru?"

He knew perfectly well that any form of public transportation doesn't pass by the hospital, which is why he always chooses to walk to work.

Without thinking things thoroughly, he left. He passed by the consulting area and found his secretary with the Swedish intern.

"Hello, there, Yao," he greeted with one of his usual smiles.

"Hi, Tino. Hi, Berwald, aru," he replied.

"So, are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah. A whole lot better," he lied. "Anyway, aren't you going home yet?"

"I am. I was just packing up."

"Oh. Okay. Bye, then, aru."

"Alright. Bye," Tino said, waving. Yao just waited for that and left.

He had originally planned to hitch a ride with the Finn, but seeing as he was with Berwald, Yao assumed that they had plans tonight. He didn't want to be rude so he just left. His mind raced as he rode the elevator down to the lobby.

_I guess I'm just going to have to make a run for it, aru, _he concluded as he stood at the entrance. He looked at the sky.

_No thunder. Good, aru. _

He took a deep breath; just before he took his first step, an expenxive-looking, jet black Porsche stopped in front of him, and the door opened.

A red-haired Italian popped his head out. "Yao~! Hop on!"

"Huh? Feliciano?"

"What the fucking hell are you waiting for? Don't just stand there, come on!" The older Italian yelled from the driver's seat.

"Uhh, right," he said, almost inaudibly. He ran through the rain and into the car. His back was drenched. "Umm, thanks, I guess, aru," Yao uttered when he was seated.

"Ve~! Don't mention it, Yao!" Feliciano sat in the back, beside him.

Yao was about to open his mouth when Lovino explained, "don't ask. You looked like you were gonna run in the rain if we didn't stop you."

"So we're going to drop you off!" Feliciano blurted out.

"Tell me where to go," Lovino said, smirking. He had his hands firmly planted on the wheel.

"Umm... Right, aru..."

He didn't have time to think. All he needed to do was give directions to his house and thank them afterwards. And so he did. While he gave him the instructions, he let the strong air conditioning dry him off. And after a few minutes, they reached his place. Thankfully, Lovino was capable enough that they didn't get lost.

"Thanks, aru," he uttered as they stopped in front of his house.

"Sure," the older Italian replied.

"Anytime, Yao~!" Feliciano said.

And with a grateful nod, he got off the car and made his assult, running through the rain. By the time he reached the front porch, he was really soaked. He never realized the front lawn was so big.

Just as he was about to grab the doorknob, the door opened.

"Ivan, aru?"

.

..

...

* * *

**A/N:** Right. Okay. I dunno... :D

Ahh... Something that happened for five hours last Friday night seemed like it lasted for a whole week. o3o

Oh, yeah. I caught up in Bleach a couple of weeks back... xD And crap, just when I found Ulquiorra hot, he dies. T3T

I dunno. Anyway, who here wants to go to Switzerland with me? o3o I heard it's legal there to help out in suicide. :D

BTW, to those who still read my stuff, thanks. x)

Bye~ xD

5 September 2010

1350H


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Right. This is precisely a continuation of what happened last time, so... x) Also:

[**warning**:] There's going to be some fluffy stuff, so if you don't like fluffy stuff, then skip the last part of this chapter. Oh, and let me remind you people about the rating. *evil grin*

R&R~

* * *

...

..

.

Chapter 13

"Yao..." Ivan trailed, breathless.

The drenched and freezing Chinese found the Russian prepared to leave. Ivan held his pipe in one hand, and Yao's umbrella in the other. He also wore an overcoat he probably dug out from the antique closet.

The two of them stood there, staring at eachother, both bewildered.

Until Yao mentally shook himself into reality.

"Ivan..." He mumbled again as water dripped from his hair and clothes.

Ivan relaxed his tense stance. He moved a bit to let the psychologist in, then closed the door. Having failed finding words, he permitted a relieved smile spread across his cherubic face. He dropped what he was holding, then planted himself in front of the dripping pile that was Yao. He bent his knees a little so his face would be level to his, securing his hands on either of Yao's shoulders. The astonished Chinese gazed at the glimmering purple eyes that stared dearly into his. It melt his heart just seeing those eyes that penetrated him a great depth. Heat and color crept to his cheeks.

"Were you afraid?" Ivan asked, earnestly concerned.

"Huh..? About what, aru?"

"The thunder. Had it frightened you?"

"Oh. That... Umm... No, not really," he looked away. "The thunderstorm hasn't really started. _Yet_, at least, aru." Yao plunged his hand in his pocket. He felt the capsule Matthew had given him earlier. He forgot to take it, and he completely disregarded that fact. Then, he took out his hands again.

"I am glad," he said.

"Ivan... Let go now. I'm soaked. You might get wet, aru," he explained as he placed his hands over Ivan's. At the pleasantly warm touch of Ivan's hands, Yao took meticulous precaution not to let him see his face, which was painted with more color.

"It does not matter," Ivan answered. The redness in Yao's face grew even more. "Dampness could never kill me."

"Right. Well, let me just take a shower and change into something," Yao said, still averting his face. "Please. Let go now, aru."

"Oh. Pardon me." Ivan finally let go of his captive. He watched Yao trod off to his room, leaving a light trail of water on the carpet. He sighed and picked up his pipe and the umbrella, then laboriously flopped onto the couch. His thoughts ran about clumsily, unorganized and hazy, jumping from one illogical idea to another. That process lasted for quite a while, although he hadn't noticed it. In fact, he was absorbed with his noisily squabbling mind that he didn't hear Yao calling him.

"Ivan?" He called loudly. Luckily, this was enough to snap him back to earth.

He looked over his shoulder and found the Chinese standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, already in a fresh set of pj's.

"The stuff I made this morning weren't even touched. Didn't you eat anything all day, aru?"

Ivan shook his head innocently.

Yao's face distorted to a mild frown. "Why didn't you?"

"It seemed that I have fallen asleep. My slumber had kept me all afternoon," Ivan said.

"And you didn't bother eating before you slept?"

Ivan shook his head again.

"Fine," he breathed. "You wait here, I'll whip us up some dinner, aru." He stalked back to the kitchen.

Soon after, the familiar scent of sauteéd garlic and onions floated from the kitchen to the living room. Ivan simply leaned back in his seat and inhaled the appetite-arousing fragrance.

...

"If you want to see a rainbow, you have to go through the rain," he said as he stepped out of the bathroom.

The Chinese heard what he said, but didn't bother to look at him. He was sitting comfortably on his bed, his legs stretched, one foot over the other. He firmly kept his face dug in the book he was reading.

"So, what do you think?"

"About what?" Hong Kong asked, his eyes still refusing to let go of the book.

"The line I just said. _If you want to see a rainbow, you have to go through the rain_. I was planning to put that in our skit on Tuesday. So, what do you think?"

"It's nice."

"And?"

"I think it's true," he said, his eyes darting from one edge of a page to the other and back.

"That's all?"

"It's applicable in a lot of ways. Patience and perseverance are very practical values," he added, finally looking up. His eyes widened at the sight of the Korean. Immediately, he went red. "Yong Soo! Put some clothes on!"

"Why?" He asked, somewhat aiming to deadpan. He stood at the foot of the bed, completely nude. He was rubbing a towel against his head, drying off his hair, as if standing bare naked in front of someone was perfectly normal.

"Should you be even asking that?"

"Come on, it's fine. Besides, you're the only one who sees me like this," he persuaded.

Hong Kong kept his face as straight as he could possibly manage. "Seriously. Just-Just put something on already. It's indecent."

"You think I could do it later?" Yong Soo climbed on the bed, crawling, lumbering next to Hong Kong. "Please?"

The Chinese pushed him away and said, "no. Do it now. I won't tolerate any excuses. We have to finish at least half the joint book report by tonight. And we still have to practice the skit tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it. Unlike _some_ people, I _already_ finished reading that book," the Korean arrogantly stated, smirking.

"Oh, is that right? I'm so sorry. But unfortunately, I, unlike _some_ people, had to work out eveything about the class project with eveyone else all week." The Chinese kapt a very sturdy poker face.

Yong Soo just laughed at that. What he said was true. All he ever did was laze around one of their friends' place while Hong Kong and all their other classmates worked their asses off the whole week.

He coughed. "Right... Then, since you were just _so_ busy all week, why don't you let me do you some good?"

"I told you. _No_. Like I said, we still have a lot to do, and we _can't_ afford to spare time on any of those things," he said, dignified. With that, he stood up and slipped his feet into his fluffy slippers and sat in his desk, in front of his laptop.

Yong Soo's wild imagination sprouted an idea.

_So, all we have to do is finish everything and we're good to go, huh? Now, ain't that right, Hong Kong~? _

He simpered stupidly.

"We'll be starting on the introduction. Then afterwards, we'll have dinner. But before that, could you just _please_ put some clothes on?"

"Why... Of course," he reclined. He went to his bag and grabbed a few stuff. "It'll be more fun if we start foreplay with clothes on," he mumbled, mischievously planning what he was going to do to him later.

...

"Good night, Peter," he said as he finished tucking in his brother.

"Good night," the lad answered. Just before the older blonde stood up, the child caught his sleeve and pulled it lightly. "Umm... Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"Even if I have another mommy and a new daddy, I still... I still love you," he said in a small voice.

Arthur smiled at sincere happiness at the words. He ruffled Peter's hair and said, "I love you, too." The child smiled at him. "Now, you should get some sleep, we have to wake up early tomorrow."

"Okay."

With a wave from the smaller blonde, he left for his room.

_I suppose that is how Yao feels about his brothers... How... Rewarding. _

Arthur lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had to settle in early tonight for Peter's PTA meeting the following day. As he thought to himself, he heard the rain gradually growing harder.

"I hope the rain would stop soon... He has always been afraid of thunder," Arthur whispered to himself. He blinked. "But... Surely that has already passed, hasn't it?"

The Briton sighed heavily. He turned his head to the side of his bed, and his gaze fell on the dainty lamp he left lit. His eyes travelled, and eventually landed on the small vase where he put the rose Alfred gave him earlier that day. He apprehended what a miracle it was that he managed to keep a tight hold on it even after all that he'd faced that afternoon, especially getting through the rain.

He stared at it.

"It appears I have forgotten how beautiful roses truly are... How pitiful of me..."

In spite of that, he smiled at himself and recollected what had happened that fateful afternoon. With a final sigh, and after he had concluded that the day was something worth remembering, he gently closed his eyes and let the sound of the cascading rain lull him to sleep.

...

Ivan walked into the kitchen and found Yao setting up the table.

"Oh. There you are, aru," Yao said as he looked up. "Come on. Take a seat and we'll have dinner in a few."

Instead of doing what he was told, Ivan went over to the cupboards and fetched what were still missing from the table.

"You don't have to-"

"Please. Allow me," he interrupted.

Yao just let him do what he wanted, he was too tired to argue. A slight headache was building up, too. After a couple more minutes, Yao found himself sitting at the table, having a quiet dinner with the Russian.

"Have you been very busy today?"

"Yes, aru. The director of the hospital came to talk to me. He said his sister wanted to see a psychologist, so he went to me. I'll be having Liechtenstein on Saturdays, aru. Of course, that wouldn't interest you much, now, would it?" He saw Ivan smile. "What's wrong?"

"You have always been that way," he began. With one of Yao's familiar questioning looks, he continued, "you rarely speak about private matters. All that you discuss at the dinner table is solely confined to either school or work. And that has never changed ever since you were young."

"Well, the kind of personal stuff you're talking about isn't really dinner table material."

"As you always justify."

And the rest of dinner passed by in a gale of uncomfortable silence. The only things that were heard were the sound of the rain outside and the clinking of the utensils against their plates. It was just until they were both done eating that the eerie silence was cracked.

As Yao started to clear up the table, Ivan readily piled up the dishes.

"I shall wash these."

"No, aru. You stay in the living room and watch TV or something, I'll do the dishes."

Ivan shook his head. "You have been working all day, while I have been sleeping all afternoon. It is only just that I fulfill my partition of the labor." He nodded, one of assurance.

"Uhh..." That was awkward. "Okay, then, I guess. Thanks, aru."

With a quaint nod, Yao proceeded to the living room, took the remote, sat on the couch, and switched on the TV. He flipped through a multitude of channels, finding nothing that interests him. The remote slipped; his hand suddenly went numb. It started to get a bit chilly, too. He felt warm around his neck and his face, but he ignored it. He convinced himself that it was merely the weather. When his hand regained some feeling again, he picked up the remote and resumed with scanning the channels.

A soft thunder clap echoed from the skies. Yao jumped.

_Aiyaa... Don't start now. Spare me, just do it later when I'm deep asleep... _He peeped over his shoulder._ Ivan, finish with the dishes already, aru... _

At the sound of the thunder, the Russian hastened to complete his task.

_Yao... Please bear with it for the moment. I shall be with you shortly. _

Yao took sharp, short breaths as his hand trembled, tediously keeping himself occupied with the TV.

...

"Alright. Then that's that. We're done at last. Now we could get some shut-eye," he yawned.

"I didn't expect having dinner first would be a better choice."

"What I'd tell you? I invented planning, so obviously, everything _I_ plan is always better than anything else."

"Of course it is, Yong Soo."

"Okay, now you save that and we're off to bed," the Korean said, somewhat containing his enthusiasm.

"Sure. You go on ahead, I'll just turn this off."

Yong Soo shuffled to the bed and hopped on, careful not to wreck the neatly folded sheets. He found a comfy spot and settled himself. He waited for Hong Kong as the latter turned off the lights and switched on the lamp standing on the bedside table. Yong Soo remained unmoved when Hong Kong finally managed to tuck himself next to him.

"I'm worried."

"About Yao?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"He isn't actually good friends with thunder, you see..."

"Oh. So he's afraid of thunder."

"Sort of. You could say that." Yong Soo sighed. "Well, _yes_. But I don't think I have to worry so much about it."

"Why? You just said you were worried."

"Yeah, I did. But I remembered Ivan's still at our place. I think he could take care of Yao-hyung. He's been trying to convince Yao-hyung that he was his missing panda from the moment we laid eyes on him." He grinned.

"I know. You already told me that... So you believe him?"

"Do I believe him?" He repeated. He thought for a second before saying, "I think so. As impossible as it may seem-"

_It's not really impossible for someone like you_, Hong Kong thought.

"-I do. I have this feeling in my gut that he's actually telling the truth." He made a duck face. "I dunno. But... I guess I could say that it's all good. Especially because he knows every single thing when it comes to Yao-hyung." He snickered. "Plus, they go well together."

"Alright. Whatever you say. Good night, Yong Soo."

"Good night, Hong Kong."

As the two of the lay face-up on the soft bed, Yong Soo concluded that it was troublesome to do anything to Hong Kong at that point. It seemed that doing the book report was tiring-they had to make a few phone calls for clarifications and they had to run all over the house to get reference materials. Although, as tired as he is, Yong Soo still doesn't feel like sleeping. He took Hong Kong in consideration, and did his best to stay still and fall asleep... But failed. He spent an hour or so staring up at the ceiling, listening to the heavy rain outside.

"Hong Kong..?" He whispered. "Are you awake?" He didn't really expect any answers.

"Yes."

He was suprised to have received a response, but he was happy. "Really?"

"Yes."

"I thought you were asleep already..."

"I thought so, too. But I couldn't sleep."

"Me, too..." He breathed. "So... Are we supposed to fall asleep now?"

"I think so."

"Uhh... Are you sleepy?"

"Not really."

"You think we could talk?"

"Aren't we already talking?" Hong Kong deadpanned.

"Right. Of course we are." Yong Soo made another duck face. A state of prolonged reticence followed shortly after his words. They spent a couple of minutes or so contented in being quiet and wordless. Until Yong Soo eventually got enough of it.

"Hey, Hong Kong..."

"Hmm?"

"Do you remember what I wished for my twelfth birthday?"

"You said you wanted a huge bear to match Yao's panda."

"Right. I lied back then."

"I already suspected that. So, what did you really wish for?"

"I actually I wished that I'd never grow up and just be twelve forever."

"Really... And what happened?"

He laughed mockingly at himself, then breathed heavily. "I wanted time to stop so I could stay twelve forever," he started. "At that time, I perfectly knew it was impossible, but... I still hoped some sort of miracle would happen. Stupid, I know. But then, I waited. Days, weeks, months... Apparently, it only sank in a couple of years after that. As time passed, we celebrated Kiku-hyung and Yao-hyung's birthdays. And I saw how they grew up; Yao-hyung went to college and Kiku-hyung finished high school. At long last, I figured out that I already graduated from being a twelve-year-old."

Hong Kong turned his head to look at him, but Yong Soo still had his sight fixed on the ceiling.

"Silly thought, though... I had a couple more birthdays but I still didn't realize those stuff yet."

The Korean shut his eyes for a few seconds and opened them up. He tilted his head and smiled as his eyes met with the other's. From a casual onlooker's view, he would plainly see nothing in the Chinese's eyes. But as for Yong Soo, after all the years he had spent with him, he was far too experienced for that. He would clearly understand what Hong Kong wants to say with a single glance.

His hand searched for Hong Kong's underneath the sheets. As he managed to get a grasp on it, he pulled it to his face and he squirmed closer, until their faces were only more or less half a ruler away.

"I dunno, but... Thanks for a lot of reasons." He rolled a bit and gave the Chinese a kiss on the cheek.

"That was mild of you," Hong Kong said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he began, "first, you don't normally open up at random like that, unless it bugs you enough, and second, you don't usually give kisses like that."

"Okay. I can explain. First, I think the _randomly opening up_ part was probably because I'm too worried about Yao-hyung and that I just wanted to distract myself. And second, why? You want something more than a kiss like _that_?" Yong Soo grinned. "As you wish, then," he said as he rolled nearer to his face.

Another thunder clap rang outside as the rain grew even heavier.

...

_This is ironic, Yao. You're being a huge hypocrite. You're a psychologist that helps kids with their problems, but you can't even solve your own trauma. It's pathetic of you, aru._

He jerked at the sound of another thunder clap burst outside. His headache made him dizzy. He felt his breath warmer than usual, but as he did earlier, he ignored it.

_Please, cut it out already, aru... Ugh, why can't I just get over it? _

Ivan peered over the couch, unseen by the other. He wanted to check how he was doing. Seeing as Yao was doing his best concentrating on the TV screen, and was already wearing an agitated frown, he decided to go over and sit on the other end of it.

"Ivan..." he blurted out, somewhat relieved at the sight of him.

The Russian gave him a reassuring smile.

A thunder clap exploded violently, this one was louder than the previous ones. Yao jumped again; he discreetly inched closer to Ivan. The smile on the latter's face seemed to have been replaced by an anxious look. Once more, another one came booming in the skies, making Yao flip at the sound.

"Why doesn't it just stop, aru?" He complained, fear still evident in his voice. He inched a bit closer to Ivan again.

_I really want my panda now, aru..._

Without another word, Ivan positioned himself right beside Yao, leaving no space between them. The Chinese looked at him, curious but thankful.

"As I have explained, I have been your panda for thirteen years. After that long period, I became well aware of the most crucial facts about you," he stated. "You are afraid of thunder since the age of four."

He had no answer for that.

If the person beside him were somebody else, Yao would have died out of mortification. But considering Ivan's explanation about the panda thing, Yao concluded that it wouldn't be so bad to let his guard down around him. Funny thing, though, he still doesn't believe him. Or atleast, he _claims_ he doesn't.

"Whenever there had been thunderstorms, your mother always took you in her arms. Then, she would cradle you and hush you from crying."

"Yeah, I know. I remember that perfectly. You don't have to remind me about it, aru." He felt the atmosphere become colder. He was tired and his headache began to pull him into a lethargic state. He felt a tighteness in his chest, forcing him to take quick, shallow, constrained breaths.

With a warm hand, Ivan touched Yao's face and gently tipped over his head, making him lean on his shoulder. Ivan went a bit uneasy as he felt the Chinese's face; it was burning hot. Yao, on the other hand, found Ivan's hand very pleasant against his cheeks. Ivan's shoulder was very inviting, too; he was suddenly tempted to sleep that way.

"Rest for a while."

His voice was soothing.

Modesty, proper reasoning, logic, embarrassment, and all other stuff seemed to have vanished as Yao found immaculate sanctity in the company of the other.

.

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**A/N:** I... I don't know... I have no idea. I... Uhh... You decide. o3o

BTW, I was wondering if any of you ever thought of Francis or Arthur as pedophiles. They were all grown up when they took in little Matthew and little Alfred, so... *stare*

We had our report cards given yesterday... That was just something random.

Also, my glasses got cracked last week, and yesterday, it finally went to the kind optometrist up in the sky... TT3TT So long, glasses, this is a small tribute to you~

Alright. Bye~

13 Septemeber 2010

2117H


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N:** I can explain why I hadn't updated last week. I just hope you read the damned note at the end.

Also, warning: uber-fluff. If you don't like cheesy stuff, don't bother reading the last part.

*stares*

R&R

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Chapter 14

He yawned. He wanted to contain that, but it seemed that he simply couldn't help himself.

"You are free to sleep if you wish," Ivan softly uttered.

"I don't want to sleep yet, aru," Yao protested like a child who was told that it was already way past his bed time. "I remembered something... I want to know something first..." He still had his head resting on Ivan's shoulder.

"And what might it be?"

He took in a short, sharp breath before he spoke, "how come you always have that scarf with you, aru?" He lifted a hand to point at Ivan's scarf that was left sprawled across the table in front of them.

"For it is important." Without waiting for Yao to ask another question, he added, "my eldest sister gave it to me when I was a child. And for an unexplainable reason, I have grown accustomed to it that I have always worn it around my neck."

"Oh. Okay. Then, why is it pink?"

"Pink was one of her many favorite colors. She believed that allowing me to wear that color would remind me of her. What she was not aware of is that I would remember her whatever color the scarf may be," he said. "She also believed that I needed to become more feminine. And that pink suited me well."

"Oh. Okay. Pink _does_ look good on you," Yao said, giggling quietly. Ivan smiled at the sound of his chuckle. "Oh, right," he remembered, "a little while ago, you said you were Russian. Is that true?"

"Da. It is."

"Really..." He felt Ivan's neck move, denoting he nodded.

"Does that trivial fact matter?"

"Uhh, sort of, aru." He blinked away a small urge to fall asleep. "Hey, I want to know one more thing, aru... You said you knew everything about me. And you know what?" He slightly frowned. "I don't think it's fair that it has to go that way, aru. I should _at least_ know a thing or two about you, too," he coughed.

"Hmm..." Ivan thought loudly for a second, then smiled. "That seems to be quite unjust, indeed."

"Alright, then. So, come on. Let's hear your story, aru." Just as Ivan opened his mouth, Yao cut in, "wait. You said you _were_ my panda, didn't you? And you're Russian... I'm not going racist on you or anything, but... Shouldn't you be Asian, at least, aru?" Odd, though. He's already sick and sleepy, but he still had a lot of energy.

Ivan broke into a mild, childish chuckle.

"What? Why are you laughing?"

"Da, that is presumable. Yet, my case is quite different," he said calmly.

"What do you mean?"

"Allow me to explain." He took in a deep breath. "Thirteen years back, I died."

"What, aru?" Yao blurted out flatly with his hoarse voice. He was both surprised and bewildered. "H-How did that happen?"

Without hesitation, Ivan began, "twelve years ago, I rendered service to the union. At the time, I had been promoted as a major-general. I was two of the youngest appointed at the position, together with a comrade of the same age. Ten months after my promotion, the government sent us here to America to participate and represent our nation in a peace conference with other delegates of chosen countries." He paused for a second. "I could recall my eldest sister, Ukraine, was very happy when I told her about that matter. Although I was also gladdened by the task, I was quite vexed with her when she began crying so blatantly. She had always done that, but it was still very annoying. She threw a fit about how proud, but how sad she was that I was to leave. Then, days before my departure, my youngest sister, Natalia, became more," he looked uneasy at the thought, and shuddered, "_attatched_. She had been more insistant in being married more than she had ever been all her life." He scowled at the thought. Luckily, Yao didn't see that. "In truth, whenever I see her face, she had always given me an undeniable compulsion to either slaughter her, or cast her away in Siberia and pray for her death."

"Oh..." Yao began, becoming intent on listening, although he felt that his consciousness was slowly slipping away from him. He had a thorough-enough grasp of himself that he was capable enough to conclude that the last part was quite morbid. "So, what happened next?"

"As it seemed, the day of my departure came, and my sisters went to the airport with me to see me off. I was truly thrilled when I finally got on the plane. At long last I need not suffer the presences of both Ukraine and Natalia. Ukraine had been sobbing madly ever since she woke up that morning until the moment we set foot on the airport. The people that saw her gave us disagreeing looks," he shook his head at the embarrassment he felt. "Natalia, on the other hand, always had her arm tightly chained around mine. It was almost painful, to be honest." Yao was about to open his mouth to speak, but closed it shut when Ivan continued, "when my companion and I arrived in America, we, along with other delegates, lodged at a '_five-star hotel_', as the guide said. I must admit, the place was fine. The guide also told us that we were fortunate the flight had not been cancelled, otherwise, the conference would have been postponed." He paused again for a second. "I remember it had been snowing hard that day... And I was happy."

"So you like snow, aru?"

Ivan smiled. "No."

"Huh? But you just said you were happy it was snowing hard that day," Yao said, the coarseness of his voice worsening. "How come you don't like it, aru?"

"It is true that I had been happy of the snow. Yet, I never once came to like it. The snow... It is simply _nostalgic_," Ivan explained. "I personally prefer a clear, cobalt sky over a vast field of golden sunflowers."

"Hmm..." He started. "Alright. Whatever you say, aru. So, what happened after that?"

"The following day, the opening ceremony of the peace conference was scheduled. An hour before the start, the snow grew heavier. I decided to have a stroll." Yao's brows furrowed at this. "I made my way through the forest near the venue. The trees appeared as nothing but large, thick sticks sprouting from the ground. As I sauntered casually, I failed to notice my comrade following me, until he pulled me to face him. I was surprised when he began ranting continuously about his... Err... Thoughts. He narrated how I did not deserve to be promoted, let alone be sent as a delegate. He was indignant that a person such as I had been compared to him," he scoffed. "Then, he took out his hand gun and pointed it at my chest and-"

Yao sat up, glowering. His face was practically spelling out resent. "Don't tell me he shot you?"

Ivan's lips curled into a charming smile, as though it weren't a serious matter. The redness in Yao's face deepened.

"What are you smiling about?"

"He shot me," Ivan stated, still grinning.

"And why are you still smiling about it, aru?"

Ivan settled him down on the couch again, and then tipped his face just as he did before, securing the Chinese's head against his shoulder.

"Calm down, Yao."

"But... Weren't you..." He trailed. "Ugh. He's just being bitter about it..."

"Look outside," Ivan discreetly cut him. He needed a distraction. It wouldn't be good to get Yao all worked up. "The raindrops are fat."

Yao tilted his head to take a look, but soon let his short attention span get the best of him for the first time in a long while. He redirected his vision to Ivan's scarf. "Tell me more about your sisters."

Ivan opened his mouth to retort and cancel out his request.

"Please, aru?"

At lightning speed, he changed what he was about to say.

"What would you possibly want to know about them?"

"Hmm... I don't know. Anything, I guess. Just tell me more of them. I'm curious, aru."

Ivan thought for a second. "My eldest sister and I had lived in peaceful coexistence until Natalia was given birth."

"Huh? What does _that_ mean?" He coughed.

"Ukraine and I had lived a fairly simple, but contented life with our parents. Those times, we were, as you call it, _close_," he said. "She had always been kind to me, and she had always given me things, like my scarf. And I never failed to stand beside her whenever she was in need. Our parents thought that they were blessed because us siblings got along quite well." He sighed. "Unfortunately, that peaceful way of living was destroyed the fateful day Natalia came into the world."

"Why do you make her sound so terrible?"

"Because she is."

"Huh?"

"As you can see, the equilibrium that exists in the world between Ukraine and I had been disrupted. Natalia distorted the balance of nature with her existence. She always chased me, craving me to marry her." He winced as memories came knocking in his head. "It was certainly not a pleasant experience."

"Hmm..." Yao spotted the pipe on the table. It was lying under the pile of fabric that was Ivan's scarf. "What about the pipe? Does it have a story behind it, too, aru?"

"Ah. My faithful pipe..." Ivan grinned. "That pipe is for Natalia."

"Oh. Was it a gift for her?"

"That might be said," he said. "While she was chasing me one day, I sought for something I could use against her. Fortunately, I found that pipe laying quietly on the grass. I picked it up and I decided I would claim it and use it. And I hit her with it. To my luck, our chases lessened gradually."

"Wow, aru... That was... _Interesting_," Yao yawned. His headache worsened considerably, making it hard to breathe.

"Are you alright?"

"I... I'm fine, aru," his voice trembled. His head hurt, and it felt a lot like hell.

Ivan frowned. Okay, he was worried. He remembered perfectly well the details when Yao last fell ill. His mother and brothers were worried sick. His mother had stayed up all night to look after him and wake him up at intervals for his medicine. Every hour, she rinsed the hand towel on his head with cold water. She always tucked him comfortably in thick blankets to lessen his chills. And while he had to endure all of that, Yao _never_, not even for a second, took his arms off his panda.

The Russian lifted his hand to Yao's forehead. Just as his hand touched his head to check his temperature, a thunderclap burst from the skies outside. Ivan heard him gasp; Yao suddenly sat up.

"It is fine. Everything will be alright..." Ivan said, tipping the other's head again to lean on his shoulder.

_Everything will be alright._

The words rang in Yao's head. Memories of his mother came flooding back. Those were the words that she always told him whenever he was afraid. And not once have those words failed to calm him down.

Another thunderclap exploded outside, and he jerked again. The Chinese felt Ivan's heavy hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and his gaze met Ivan's purple eyes. They were glimmering with anxiety; Yao felt that and he froze. Time suddenly slowed down and a soft feeling of peace poured into him, trickling down smooth, sweet, and golden, like honey. The panic popped like a bubble and vanished. A sense of content sank into him as he lay beside Ivan. He didn't dare let go of his gaze. Until he was sent back to earth at the touch of Ivan's fingertips gently brushing against his cheeks. He had been fixing Yao's hair to one side to clear his face. Yao's already-reddened face flushed as he looked away and found a warm and cozy spot.

But his headache pounded harder and carved deeper into him. He winced at the pain. He had forgotten how long it had been when he last felt that kind of searing pain. He attempted to stand up, but the moment he got to his feet, he merely wobbled and fell right back down on the couch. Yao's world apparently refused to stop spinning. It wasn't even merciful enough to give him a second to get a firm hold of himself. Fortunately, Ivan did it for him; the Russian wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"Yao, please rest for a while. Lie down on my lap," he offered, patting and smoothening out the fabric on his thighs.

"No... I can't possibly-" He wasn't able to finish his statement; Ivan lightly ushered him to lie down on his lap. He didn't have enough strength to resist, so he just complied. And it seemed like a fairly nice idea.

He was able to take a loose breath as he settled himself on Ivan's lap. _This is surprisingly soft and comfy, aru_, he thought.

"Thanks, aru..." His voice was faint and rough, and he felt his eyelids getting heavier. "I... I hate getting sick, aru..."

"I am aware of that."

Ivan reached for the remote and switched off the TV. The sounds were being drowned out by the rain, anyway. He took a breath, then stared down at Yao with a yearning look. He remained that way for more or less half an hour, until he sensed that Yao already fell asleep. He found his hand nearing the Chinese's face, but pulled it back the moment he realized it. He took a deep breath and decided to go on, then traced a finger on Yao's features. As his hand hovered over the Chinese's mouth, he felt Yao's hot breath brush against his skin. Then, he softly rubbed his forehead. God knows how hot it was.

"I shall take good care of you," he vowed. And with that, he bent over low, and swiftly gave the sick psychologist a light kiss on the forehead.

...

His dull eyes looked out the window. Worry struck him. He sighed.

"I hope Yao-nii's alright..."

Although his father treated Yao like he were his real son, Kiku had been reluctant to acknowledge his elder brother that way. Within the first few years they had spent together, he had always been reclusive and he gave a great deal of effort to keep his distance from him.

And Kiku's first day of school came. He had no idea how to act, not to mention his English was very limited that time since he always spoke to his father in Japanese. That day was still very vivid. It was after classes, and a few friends asked Kiku to join in a game. One of the older kids was pissed off with the way he talked, because he thought it sounded weird. That kid was about to run a fist through Kiku when Yao sprang to the scene and pulled his brother away by the arm. Then, Yao kicked the kid in the shins and ran home with his brother. The next day, Yao's homeroom teacher called their mom to discuss what happened. He got detention for a week.

A couple of days or so after that, Kiku started talking to him more often. And then one day, he finally called him 'nii'. He didn't show it, but Yao was truly happy when he called him his brother, although he didn't know what 'nii' meant at first. It was lucky that his dad explained how it worked after he heard it.

The Grecian finished the last page he was reading and glanced at him from his study table.

"Your brother?" He asked slowly. "You're... Worried?"

The Japanese looked at him and nodded. "I hope he's doing fine."

"So, then... Why... Don't you call... Him?"

"Hmm... I think I will," he said, walking over to the phone and picking it up. He heard a dial tone and punched in their house's number. It rang.

"Hello, Yao-nii?"

"_Hello_."

He recognized the voice. "Ivan? Where's Yao-nii? How's he doing?"

"_Yao is asleep, and I am afraid he came down with a fever_-"

"What?" He voice turned immediately panicky. "I'll come home right away."

"_Worry not. It is not needed_," he said. "_I shall take care of him._"

"But..."

"_It is raining heavily outside, and you have work to finish, if I am not mistaken._" Ivan did his best not to trouble him. "_It will be alright. I am capable of taking care of him._"

"Are... Are you sure?"

"_Trust me._"

Kiku sighed heavily. "Umm..." He was still uneasy. He took a moment to think things through. "Alright, then. Just... _Please_. Take good care of him."

"_Rest assured I will._"

Kiku took in another deep breath. "Alright. Bye."

"_Good bye._" And he hung up.

Kiku put the phone back in its place and sat back on the easy chair next to it. He kept thinking how his brother was doing. Ivan said he'll be taking care of him. Not to mention he's been saying he was Yao's panda non-stop since the day he popped up into the siblings' lives. Even though Kiku was still a bit skeptical, he's starting to convincing himself that Ivan is telling the truth and that he should place his trust in him.

Heracles walked lazily to him, a few papers in hand. "Is he... Alright?"

The Japanese looked up and nodded.

"Are _you_ alright?"

"Of course I am. Come now, let's finalize the last volume so we could fax it in," he said, taking the papers Heracles was holding and skimming through.

_Trust Ivan. I'm sure he wouldn't let anything bad happen to Yao-nii._

_Ho~hum_

He was panting heavily. Obvious enough, he was tired. Hellishly tired.

"What I'd tell you? A little dose of me was all it would take to do you some good," the Korean boasted. He was sprawled across the bed, butt naked. "I told you it'd be great!"

"Whatever you say, Yong Soo... You're the only one who enjoyed it."

"Hah." He rolled over to Hong Kong, until his face was just an inch away. "You liked it. Say it!"

"You know something?"

"I'm awesome?"

"No," he deadpanned. Yong Soo made a duck face. "I hope you know how awkward it is to go through with this with interruptions here and there about your brother."

"Oh. Right." Yong Soo smiled stupidly. "Sorry 'bout that."

Hong Kong sighed. "It's fine."

"Honest!" He said. "Let's see..." He wormed a bit closer to the Chinese and stole a kiss. The other instantly went red, but labored hard to keep a poker face. "Sorry..." He said, giving a classic puppy dog look.

"Fine. Whatever."

_Ho~hum_

Ivan took a glimpse of the clock.

He looked at Yao and whispered, "let us get you to your room?" With a worried smile, he scooped up Yao, careful not to wake him up, then carried him to his room. He gently plopped him on his bed, and tucked him in, neatly fixing his sheets in the process. It was a really good thing he was already in his pj's. He turned off the lights, except for the lamp on his bedside table. When he was done settling Yao in, Ivan sat on his bed, right beside him. He stared at him, running his hand across the Chinese's forehead.

What he didn't know was that Yao stirred, and woke up at the touch of his cold fingers. He was awake and his head was swimming. As he struggled to keep a grip on himself, he waited. Not sure of what, but he was waiting.

_I must get him a cold compress. _

Ivan stood up to leave, but he felt a light tug on his sleeve. He glanced back, expecting to see his sleeve caught in something, but instead, he found a pair of brown eyes staring at him, almost pleading.

"Yao... I though you were asleep..." He said, almost breathless.

"Ivan... Don't leave, aru..." Yao shook his head.

"But I must," he said, lightly taking away the other's grip on the end of his sleeve. "I promise, I will be back." Ivan smiled reassuringly, and without waiting for another word, he left.

Yao just stared after him, somewhat defeated. He still waited, blocking out the thoughts of hearing another loud thunderclap.

Ivan fetched a clean hand towel from one of the cupboards, and filled a small basin of cold water from the tap. He dipped the towel in the cold water and brought it back to Yao's room. The Chinese just watched him as he placed the basin on his bedside table, and squeezed the towel dry. Yao sighed at the sound of the water sloshing and dripping merrily in the basin.

"Here..."

He whimpered as Ivan put the hand towel across his forehead. It was terribly and unpleasantly cold.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, aru..."

Ivan remained seated next to him. He stared longingly as he cleared Yao's face of his hair from time to time. He stood up to leave, but he felt Yao tug at the end of his sleeve again. Ivan's gaze met with his brown eyes. They looked like they were about to spill with tears any moment.

Oh, how he wished to be around Yao's arms again, as his panda-just like how it had been before.

"Don't leave..."

Ivan opened his mouth, but-

"Please, aru?"

Rejecting his request almost seemed like a sin. He smiled in spite of himself, and took Yao's hand tightly in his.

"I promise. I would not leave you."

.

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**A/N:** Right. I wasn't able to upload anything last week because *drumroll please* I got confined in a hospital for the whole week, and I wasn't able to touch my laptop all that while. And now, I just got out this Sunday afternoon, so... Yeah. :D I hope you greet me with reviews. (Yes, I know I'm being an ass.)

Alright! So much for tasteless hospital food. xD I had to have a stick of Mentos cola to keep my appetite up. Oh, yeah. I wanted to mention I had dextroses on both of my hands so you could just imagine how hard it is to get around.

Take care, everyone. :)

26 September 2010

1923H


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Right. It's currently 11:26, still October 4, and I'm rushing to finish this tonight because of a reason I shall mention in my note at the bottom. But, _**really**_. Does anybody read those notes? o3o

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Chapter 15

The awareness of the fact that their hands were still clasped left him as he indulged in gazing at the penetrating purple eyes. He stared at those eyes as they, in turn, stared back at him. They appeared awfully longing. He felt that sense of longing, but the temptation was still creeping its way into him. The temptation of falling asleep was just hauling him to yield to its will.

_No._

Men have their larger-than-normal sense of pride. They always did, and they always will. It's been in their nature since God knows when.

And Yao had _his_ pride. He wanted to keep a tight grip on that pride. He kept a firm, but discreet grasp on it for years, why let go now? Right that moment, he wanted to show Ivan that he was a real man. An real, able-bodied one. One who isn't a wimp-which he slightly believed himself to be. To do that, he earnestly wanted to stay awake and keep himself up all night. He wanted to prove he was actually worth something.

-which he didn't really need to do.

The urge to let his eyelids slip shut was almost killing him.

"Please-"

A faint thunderclap resounded outside and interrupted the Russian's speech. This made Yao gasp suddenly, and realize that his hand still had its hold on the other's. His face reddened at the revelation. Although he felt that Ivan's hands were cold, it seemed to him that it was the most delightful feeling in all the world. Time paused briefly to give him a second to appreciate the touch.

_Ring... Ring..._

He jumped; the sound of his phone ringing startled him. He glanced at the bedside table where he left it and glowered. He regretfully took away his hand from Ivan's and attempted to get his annoying phone. To his surprise, just as his hand was a few inches away, he found the Russian's hand swooping down on it. Ivan looked at the caller id before he answered it.

"_Hello? Yao? How's your fever? Are you alright?_" The voice over the phone sounded agitated and frantic. "_Listen, I'm really sorry to disturb you, and I'm _really_ sorry for being a klutz, so I'll make it quick. I was just going to ask about tomorrow. I forgot to encode something earlier. It's about your appointment tomorrow with Liechtenstein. I wanted to ask what time it should be scheduled._"

Yao plainly watched him. He frowned anxiously as he saw Ivan's lips tilt downward. He didn't say anything.

"Umm... Tino?"

"_Yao? Are you alright? What happened to your voice?_"

"Tino, this is Ivan. I am terribly sorry, but Yao is currently unavailable, and unfortunately, he will not be able to attend to his appointment tomorrow, for he is ill."

"_What? He's ill? As in he's sick? Don't tell me his fever went all the way?_"

"Da. I am afraid so."

He heard Tino sigh over the phone. "_Oh... I see. So who's going to take care of him? Kiku?_"

"No. Apparently, Kiku is also unavailable. I shall take care of him."

_I shall take care of him_.

_Woah. That was... Unexpected, _Yao thought.

A spark suddenly lit in the Finn's psyche. He blushed a wee bit as he assumed that he disturbed something important. He continued with a slightly jittery, but hardly-labored formal voice, "_alright. I understand. Well, please tell him to get better soon._"

"I shall."

Since Tino didn't want anything awkward, he just ended the conversation, "_okay, then. Bye._"

"Bye," Ivan replied.

There was the sound of the other line getting cut. He put back the phone where he took it. Yao plainly stared at him as he did. He looked away when Ivan turned to him.

"Get well soon," he began. "Tino had asked me to tell you."

"Oh. Right. Thanks," he breathed. His consciousness was pulling him away from the drowsiness that already had a grip on him. "And thanks for answering the phone, aru."

"You are always welcome."

A grin and a nod. Then, silence. It was a defeaning silence, smoothly complemented with the rhythmic downpour of the rain. Ivan remained seated beside Yao, as the latter had requested him to stay; it was not necessary for Yao to ask that of him. The Russian had already planned on staying with him. Ivan smiled softly as he watched Yao shut his eyes and pretend to be asleep. Of all the years he spent being Yao's panda, he had learned everything about him. And by everything, he clearly means _everything_. While he was a panda, he never needed sleep; he was never able to fall asleep, at that. He has practically seen, heard, and known everything-even a few things Yao didn't.

"_Oh, right. Like, remember to take care of your kid once you're back to normal, okay? It's, like, part of the deal. And it's, like, written in the contract you signed, anyway._"

Feliks told him that just before everything went black.

"_Take care..._" He repeated to himself, almost inaudibly.

Yao discreetly took a peek at him, but he immediately closed his eyes again and continued to pretend being asleep. But then, he could not take the extremely vexing silence any longer.

"Ivan..." He started.

The Russian glanced at him. Ivan had the questioning face that Yao usually wore, and it had the same effect on him. It made him explain even without Ivan verbally asking.

"I... You, aru... When..." He sighed exasperatedly to himself. Starting a conversation: Fail. "Sorry. Never mind, aru."

"You are free to speak, if you wish. And I guarantee that I shall listen. If I may say so, it was obvious that you wanted to say something. Please, go ahead."

"No, I..." A hard and painful cough fought through his lips.

"Are you alright?" Ivan was suddenly alarmed. That cough didn't sound too good.

Yao coughed a little more before he answered, "yes. I'm fine." He tried to sit and stand up, but Ivan fastened his hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him back to his bed.

"Please, do not get out of bed. I shall fetch whatever you need. Just tell me," he said.

"No, it's fine. I'll get it myself, aru," Yao persisted, trying to get up again. But like he did before, Ivan pushed him back. "Ivan, let me go. I can do this by myself, aru," he said, starting to get irritated.

"You are not in the condition to do so," Ivan protested.

"What are you talking about, aru? Just let me go, I can do this myself. It's fine. Really."

"Forgive me, but it is not _fine_." His voice had just been decked with authority. "I have promised your brother that I shall take care of you. Now, I ask for your cooperation."

"What, aru?"

"Your brother Kiku called earlier, while you were asleep in the living room," he explained. Yao blushed as he remembered he fell alseep on Ivan's lap. "I had told him that you have caught a fever, and he was very worried. And although he was busy with his work, he even proposed of coming home to check on you. I understand how busy he is, and I told him not to worry. I reassured him that I am capable of taking care of you."

Okay, Yao was confused. He wasn't sure whether he should be angry at Ivan because he told Kiku he was sick, causing the middle brother to get worried about him, or be happy because he said he promised to take care of him.

Ivan caught a glimpse of the clock. "One moment." He stood up and advanced to the door.

"Where are you going, aru?"

"To the medicine cabinet. You must take your medicine," he said, and then left.

"Fine, aru."

...

He picked up his clothes from the floor, then started slipping into them. The other was already dressed, and was looking for a comfy spot on the bed. After he finished putting all of his clothes on, he dropped down on the bed and wormed his way next to the Chinese, who was facing the ceiling.

"Are you still up, Hong Kong?"

"Apparently."

He heaved a heavy sigh as he dropped his face to the pillow.

"What now?"

"Nothing... I just... Remembered something."

"Let me guess. It has something to do with Yao, doesn't it?"

Yong Soo turned his face from the pillow and praised him, "wow. You're good."

"Not really. It's just that all the years I've spent with you forcibly made me learn how to read you," he explained. His voice sounded apathetic, like it always did. "Now, what is it this time?"

"Well, you see... I was just wondering if I should feel guilty or something, but..."

"But what?"

"It's just that... I can't help thinking that Yao-hyung became a psychologist because of me. That wasn't what he wanted." He made a regretful face. "When we were kids, he always said he wanted to be a pediatrician. And I think I was the one who influenced that, too. Anyway, my dad left us one day and... I remember I cried so hard back then." Hong Kong saw a bittersweet smile spread across the Korean's face. "Then there was his panda. He never let anyone touch it except mom, and that's only when she was going to put it in the laundry. But when nights passed that I cried myself to sleep, he willingly gave me his panda and told me that I could have him until I felt better. He promised me that he would study hard to be a psychologist and help me." He sighed again. "Doesn't that mean I was the reason why he had to walk away from what he really wanted?"

"Not really," Hong Kong answered. It was surprising Hong Kong planned to console Yong Soo rather than make him feel worse.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Try to look at it. If he didn't want to become a psychologist, then by all means, fate wouldn't let him. You should hear my cousin Arthur talk about him all the time. And with what I've heard, Yao doesn't sound like he would do something he didn't want to."

Yong Soo was tempted to believe that.

"Plus, he seems happy with his job," the Chinese added.

"Well, he _does_ sound happy when he talks about it..."

Hong Kong rolled over and faced him. "There you go. If he's happy, then it should work for you, too, right?"

"Yeah, but..."

"If he's happy, then you _should_ be happy for him."

"But I'm not entirely sure if he really _is_ happy with it. Sure, he smiles all the time, but he might just be putting up a front." He sounded sad. "And... I'm pretty sure he is."

"Can't you feel anything?"

"I..." He thought for a second. "I don't know. I guess I was too busy worrying my ass off about him, I didn't even think about taking a look at how he's doing."

Hong Kong softly slapped a hand on Yong Soo's cheek.

"Stop thinking about it. You're worrying your ass off over nothing. The past is done. Try living for the here and now." Even though he was giving an advice, his voice sounded _really_ indifferent. "Look, why don't you just do what you can to help him? He'll be happy that way. Trust me, he'll appreciate that more than seeing you moping around."

"Hmm..." The Korean gave him a skeptical look.

"What?"

"Since when did _you_ know so much about being happy?"

"Since I started thinking about the most obvious things in the world."

"Right." He squirmed closer. "Thanks." In a sing-song voice, he added, "I love you, Hong Kong!" And he plopped a kiss on the Chinese's cheek, earning him a sigh and a problematic smile.

Well, Yao wasn't really known for doing things he didn't want to. Except if it were for his brothers, though. He'd do _anything_ for them.

...

His gold hair fluttered as he felt the breeze carrying the raindrops kiss his cheeks. He sighed smugly, and sauntered away from the balcony, down the skillfully carved staircase. He stepped into the kitchen, seized an expensive glass from a cupboard, and popped out a bottle of his favorite wine from the fridge. He poured himself a glassful and took a nice, big gulp. He smiled contentedly as he took a breath.

"French is the best," he boasted.

_Francis Bonnefoy._

He works in the hospital where Yao and all the others work. He's a physician and as unbelievable as it may seem, he's actually a good doctor. He's been in one of Arthur's classes when they were in high school. And ever since the issue about the controversial drinking party where Arthur had once been in danger of being deflowered by him, which, to the Briton's luck, didn't happen, Arthur had considered him to be an evil, _evil_ man. But he didn't mind. Francis still smiles at him when he meets him in absurdly random places.

At the workplace, it's not really a secret that he and a certain Canadian nurse are in a relationship. Matthew lives in his house, although his brother Alfred is against it. But most of the time, the American just keeps quiet about it since he sees how happy Matthew looks when he's with Francis.

And the Frenchman is quite convinced that he is truly contented with his life.

With the wine bottle in hand, and his glass in the other, he walked over to the living room. He spotted the younger blonde sitting on the couch and watching a movie on the television. He decided to sit with him. As he settled down next to the Canadian, the latter looked up and gave him an inquiring look.

"Francis... You're drinking?"

"And you're up this late? It's almost midnight. Is there something wrong?"

Matthew wanted a diversion.

"You're drinking at this hour? And at this weather?"

He grinned at the remark. "My dearest Matthew, anytime's a good time for wine," he said. He filled the glass to the brim. "Especially when you're with someone special," he added.

Francis held up the glass and offered it to him. The Canadian's brows furrowed, but the Frenchman was not deterred one bit. The smile he had stayed plastered on his face as he gestured him to take it. Matthew's lips sloped downward.

"Take it," he prodded. "Just a little."

"Francis, a full glass of wine is _not_ a little," he shot. "You know how I can't take alcohol too well..."

_Which is exactly my point, Matthew._

"Come on. It's not everyday that you drink. Not to mention tonight's a Friday."

The nurse's glare bounced from the sparkling glass that was waiting for him, to the French's light blue eyes that were also waiting. Reluctantly, he decided to just take it.

"There you go," Francis consented. "Now, let's have a drink." He tapped his bottle to the younger blonde's glass and said, "cheers." Then, he had a go at his drink. "Great."

Having no other choice, Matthew took a small sip and sighed.

"Alright. Now, tell me," he started. "What's on your mind?"

The Canadian merely glanced at him, and didn't answer.

"You're never the one to stay up this late," he continued, as he snaked an arm around Matthew. "There must be something that's bothering you. What's wrong?"

He wouldn't want to beat around the bush, so just to get over with it, Matthew admitted, "it's you."

The physician raised a brow. "How?"

"You... You just don't listen to what I have to say. You do what you want to do, especially when it comes to me. You're always thinking about yourself, and you couldn't care less about anything that has nothing to do with you. You take advantage of people and God knows how selfish you can be. And... And you don't give the slightest damn about me," he snapped. "It just... Irritates me." And he took a huge gulp of the sweet, red alcohol.

His words left the Frenchman's mouth hanging open. He snatched a hold on himself, and swiftly cooed, "oh, no, no, no, no, no... Really... Was that what you've always thought?" He slid closer, and propped his head next to Matthew's neck. Then, he asked again, "did you _honestly_ think that way?"

He was used to having Francis harrass him like that.

"Of course I did. Would I tell that you if I didn't?"

"Right, right. Of course..." He said. His breath brushed against Matthew's skin, which made him twitch involuntarily. I guess he still has a way to go before he could be completely immune to him. "I have a valid reason for that..."

"Yeah, right," he sneered, contempt lucid. "All your _valid reasons_ are just excuses."

He placed his bottle on the table. "Not necessarily." He sighed, and the warmth of his breath gave Matthew goosebumps. "You see, that is merely how I show my affection. And as myself," he purposely blew another warm breath on the other's neck, "I wouldn't want anybody else to touch you." The Canadian was about to retort angrily when he quickly said, "I think this is what they call being over-protective. Or should I say, over-_possessive_."

"That's just-"

Before he could say another word, Francis snatched Matthew's glass, and almost threw it on the table in his haste of getting his hands on the younger blonde, and grasping him by his shoulders. Matthew let out a small gasp at how tight Francis' hold on him was.

Blue eyes stared into blue eyes.

"I want you, and I want you all to myself."

Without waiting for any answer, he shot a searing kiss on Matthew's mouth. It was hardcore, as all his kisses were. The younger blonde pushed him away and glared viciously. He looked very indignant for a moment. And soon, he had his arms around Francis' neck; he pulled him and returned his kiss.

...

Ivan came back shortly. In his hands were a glass of water, a couple of capsules, and a few tablets wrapped in dull-colored foil. He went back to where he sat before, and set the glass on the nearly-full bedside table. He held out a tablet and a capsule.

"Carbocistein for your cough, and paracetamol for your fever," he said, giving them to Yao.

The Chinese fixed the slightly warm hand towel on his forehead, sat up slowly and took them. "How come you knew what to get, aru?"

"Aside from being a soldier, I listened intently to your mother when she spoke about her work. She worked as a pharmacist, had she not?"

Yao opened one, and prepared to take it in. "Yeah. She was, aru," he said as he popped a capsule in his mouth. Ivan gave him the glass of water. "Thanks, aru." He took the tablet, and repeated the process. The medicine were flavored. Though, it seemed that the laboratory's attempt to improve the taste had failed. Yao stuck out his tongue disgustedly; the inside of his mouth tasted horrible. Ivan simply giggled at the expression Yao had made.

"I have also set the tea to boil," Ivan said.

"Wow... You even remembered the tea. That's nice of you, aru," Yao said, almost indifferently. The taste of the medicine still stuck in his mouth, which made him feel worse. He heard the kettle whistling cheerily in the kitchen.

"Oh, it must be ready," Ivan said as he stood up and proceeded to fetch the tea.

He left Yao staring after him, somewhat dumbfounded. Yao found it extremely awkward, but absolutely pleasant to have someone take care of him. And it wasn't just on the standard, caring-for-the-sick note. What Ivan was doing replicated what his mother had always done. It was the exact, same way she did. Everything was in the right place. He pondered deeper and deeper into those thoughts that he didn't notice when Ivan came back carrying a cup of tea. His scarf was dangling from his elbow, where he hung it.

"Here it is," Ivan said, carefully handing the cup to Yao. "I am aware that you are accustomed to drinking steaming hot tea. You have been trained to drink this since you were a child."

"Well, yeah..." Yao plainly muttered. He held the cup and took a sip. He was honestly surprised that the tea Ivan made tasted near what his mother made. He was impressed that even though Ivan _'was his panda_,_'_ he did everything as if he actually practiced things hands-on. Yao blinked and downed the whole thing in his second go. Ivan took the ceramic cup and set it on the bedside table beside all the other paraphernalia. Yao mouthed a word of thanks.

"Yao," he began, not looking at him.

"Yes?"

His lips curved into a small grin as he narrated, "being your panda, I have watched your life progress. And I could remember so well that people around you had been giving you the same lines time and again. People had promised you that if anything happens to you, they would be right beside you always." Yao mentally agreed. That had been a frequently used statement. "Your mother, your brothers, and even Arthur once told you that," he pouted as Ivan made mention of the Briton. "And through the long time I had spent with you, I have come to formulate my own vow."

_Wow. _Vow_, aru. That's a pretty nice word. _

"Instead of saying what they had all said, I would rather tell you," he paused and took a breath.

Out of his own excitement, Yao poked, "what would you rather tell me, aru?"

Ivan was pleased at his enthusiasm. "Nothing will happen as long as I am beside you."

Yao blushed at his words. That was _definitely_ something new.

"Most especially now that I am no longer a panda," he continued.

It seemed to Yao that having no reply would be rude, so even if he stuttered a bit, he said, "right. Thanks, aru. I would, umm... Appreciate that, aru." He grew a bit redder as Ivan flashed him one of his charming smiles. He decided to lie back down, his head began pounding again. He was nervous for some reason. He was saying _aru_ a little more than often. Probably because of... Ivan? Possibly. He was being awfully too nice to him.

"At any rate, you must rest now."

The Russian shifted nearer, and leaned over to him. He reached for the hand towel on his head. The Chinese closed his eyes, as Ivan's face was only a few inches from his. He was so close that Yao had felt his warm breath on his skin, but Ivan didn't seem to have noticed it. After he replaced the towel on his forehead, Yao involuntarily whimpered when he felt the uncomfortably cold compress touch his skin.

"Please rest now. I shall be sure to awake you at intervals."

"Huh? What for, aru?"

"You must take your medicine every four hours. I shall wake you when it is time. Now, you must sleep," he explained, ushering Yao to do what he said.

"Oh. Right, aru. Well, anyway, you don't have to wake me up, aru. I can do it myself. I'll just set my alarm clock to go off-"

"No. I shall do it," Ivan said with a tone of finality.

"Huh? How would you sleep if you have to wake me up? It's fine, aru," Yao tried an assuring smile. "I'll just-"

"Who ever said I would sleep?"

"Wait, what, aru?"

"I have never planned to sleep tonight."

"What are you saying? Come _on_," Yao snorted. "You have _got_ to be kidding, aru."

"I am not." Yao was about to retort, but Ivan continued, "I shall stay up and I shall watch over you. It is all part of the promise I had made to Kiku."

Yao was flustered.

"And it is part of the contract, as well..." He trailed.

"What contract?"

"I haven't said anything," Ivan defended. "Now, you must sleep."

"Wait, I can't have you staying up all night just to watch me-"

"Please. I am in need of your cooperation."

Yao couldn't think of an appropriate response. His brain felt like it was beating inside his head, and his world started spinning again. Momentarily, he disregarded all formalities and failed to give Ivan an answer. He just let himself slip cozier into his sheets and allowed the hands dragging him to sleep take him deeper. Somehow, Ivan understood how Yao felt. He sighed in relief as the Chinese obliged to what he wanted to happen. Even if it _was_ by default.

"Ivan..." He called, breathless and husky.

The man in question leaned over to hear him better. "Yes?"

"I... Thank you, aru..."

Ivan smiled at innocent happiness. "It is my pleasure."

"And one more thing..."

"What is it?" He asked softly.

"Could you... Please... Don't leave my side, aru. Just-Just for tonight. Okay?"

"I have never panned to leave your side."

_Ho~hum_

The sun was creeping its way into the horizon, fighting through the multitude of clouds, slowly illuminating the beautifully golden wheat fields with its pale light.

Her chest rose as she took a deep breath and held the cold, metal knob. She had already anticipated what lay beyond it: an old room she had not visited for a remarkably long time. She turned the knob and the picture of a familiar room appeared to her. Memories came rushing; that room had been a witness to her childhood. _Their_ childhood. The image had made her regret not opening it all those years.

A sudden feeling of lament swept over her. She stared dearly and longingly at every corner, taking it all in. She walked over to one of the beds, the larger one, and sat. She ran a hand through the soft pillow; she felt the dust build up in her palm. She patted it casually on the fabric of her lap, spreading the light gray dust across. Then, she tore herself away and started rummaging through the cabinet beside the bed. Her bright azure eyes widened when she found a familiar-looking bottle. Her hands acted on their own and took it. It had already been opened, but it seemed that only a sip was taken from it. The clear liquid in the bottle glistened and sloshed merrily. Memories continued to flood in.

Helpless, a stout tear grew in the corner of each of her eyes. The room that was once deafeningly silent was now starting to fill with her sad little sobs. A few moments later, tears were already streaming down her cheeks. Her grip on the neck of the bottle considerably tightened, although her hand trembled.

"My brother..." Her voice broke. She let out a small wail, and whispered to herself, "why have they taken you away from me?" She sobbed. "Vanya..."

As if nature could not give a damn, the sun bathed the room, bathing her grief in its mocking, aureous radiance.

She hadn't noticed the footsteps.

"Stop crying! You are making me sick," the harsh tone of her sister tore, emphasizing every word.

She glanced from her shoulder. "Natalia? I... I'm sorry..."

"I brought you some milk and cheese today," she said, pointing out the door.

"Oh," Ukraine wiped her face with her sleeves. "Thank you." She put back the bottle of vodka where she took it, and smoothened the sheets on the bed. She had her back to her sister.

Natalia pouted. "Just... Stop crying about him, will you? It is pathetic. Besides, no matter what we do, he... He is _never_ coming back. Let's face it. He is dead."

Ukraine whipped around to look at her. "Natalia... How could you say such a thing?"

"I am being realistic," she said sharply. "They have already told us that he is dead, haven't they? That settles everything. There is _nothing_ we can do about it."

"But they haven't found his body. There is still the possibility of-"

"Shut up! There are no possibilities! There just aren't!" She yelled. Ukraine saw a tear threatening to fall. "Do not _dare_ raise my hopes! He is never coming back! _Never_!"

And she stormed away.

"It must be painful for you, Natalia..."

.

..

...

* * *

**A/N:** Okay. I wanted to say that I'll be updating late next since exams are up on Wednesday, so... I'm going to have to study. (am a dork)

Right. For the last whole week, I couldn't get around well since I couldn't feel my fingers. And whenever I let my arms drop, it feels like my bones are going to get detached. I hate post-sickness stuff. T3T

*sigh* oh, right. I wanted to ask your opinions whether I should use the female or the male design for Philippines. :D The male's name is Juan Precopio Magsaysay, while the girl's name is... Jasmine. Just... Just Jasmine. o_o

Well anyway, I have a few new plotbunnies ready once this panda thing's over, so... xD

Right. Bye~

4 October 2010

2326H


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Heh. Talk about racial discrimination... o3o Well, *shrugs* you can't please everybody.

Anyway, to Lumoa, thanks, I forgot to mention you in the last chapter, thanks for giving me the idea about letting Ukraine and Belarus join in the fun. :)

Date/Time check: Oct. 18, 2010

2234H

...

..

.

* * *

Chapter 16

She stepped outside to the front porch, a cup of freshly brewed coffee in one hand, and a piece of bread in the other. She breathed heartily as the cool morning breeze gently caressed her face, as if welcoming her back. She dipped her bread in her coffee before she set it down on the _narra_ railing, then trudged down the wooden steps to the lawn. She ate her soaked bread as she casually walked to see the coming sun.

"This is such a nice sunrise," she began. "But whichever way I look at it, it's still entirely different from the one back home..."

Another cool wind gushed past her, prodding her to yawn. She temporarily took her attention away from the early morning performance, and stretched soulfully. She quickly skipped up the steps again, took her cup of coffee, and went back to watch the sun creep out of its cradle. She sipped from her cup, and smiled as the taste reminded her of home. The sun slowly made its grand entrance into the sky. She stayed like that, watching, until the whole neighborhood was fully bathed in a bright, pale yellow light. Having finished her coffee, she set her cup back down, picked up her broom, then began sweeping the leaves that loitered lazily in the front yard.

"For some reason, I'm looking forward to today..." She said happily as she swept up the leaves into a pile.

...

The light struck his eyes; the brightness triggered him to stir and wake up. He breathed out his mouth; he felt that his breath was not as hot as the night before, which was a good sign. He glanced at the bedside table, expecting to see it very messy, but it wasn't. It was neat and clean. No tea cups, no foil wrappers, nothing. Just the basin of water Ivan prepared last night. He took the towel from his forehead and set it beside the basin. It was still a bit cold.

He sighed and stared at the ceiling. It was pleasantly warm and cozy, he thought. Very comfortable. He was about to put a hand on his neck and check his temperature, but he felt a very fine fabric obstructing him from doing so. He grabbed a handful of it, and found a familiar shade of pink. He was honestly surprised at the sight.

"Ivan's... Scarf?" He said. The answer was pretty obvious. It was carefully wrapped around his neck. "Hmm... He must've done it when I fell asleep last night," he told himself. "Last night..." Then, he remembered what happened hours before.

_"Yao..." He called. "Please wake up." The sick Chinese wouldn't budge. Ivan lightly tapped him on the shoulder. "Yao, wake up. It is time to take your medicine." _

_ "Hmm..? Medicine?" His voice still sounded husky. He felt the weight of the towel on his forehead disappear. _

_ "Da. That is right. Now, if you just sit up... This will only take a moment," he said. He wasn't looking; he was fixing the things Yao would drink. _

_ "Okay..." He yawned. He labored hard to sit up; he even staggered a little as he attempted to. Ivan had to help him. _

_ "Alright. Here," he said, handing Yao a capsule, a tablet and a tall glass of water. The latter took the medicine, and downed them together in one go. He finished his water as well. _

_ "Very good," Ivan said encouragingly, smiling as he took the empty glass from him. _

_ It was good that Yao was half-asleep, and didn't have a firm, err, he didn't have the slightest hold of his consciousness. If, in case, it had been otherwise, he would have gotten extremely irritated at Ivan's remark. Sure, his mother said that whenever he took his medicine, but that was when he was still a kid. Now, when someone would tell it to him at his age, it would simply sound awkward. Not to mention Ivan's the one saying it. _

_ "Your tea." He handed him a cup of the same tea he had taken earlier. Yao had his hands on it, but Ivan still assisted him when he drank. Ivan tucked a lock of hair behind Yao's ear as he did, and the Chinese felt his hands; they were soft, and slightly cold. Nonetheless, it felt relieving against his skin. _

_ "Good," the Russian said when his patient finally finished taking everything. "You can lie down now, and get back to sleep." He turned to the towel he took earlier, and soaked it a few times in the basin. After getting satisfied with how cold it is, he morbidly squeezed it dry, folded it neat, and then settled it on Yao's forehead, where it belonged. Yao slightly whimpered at how cold it was. _

_ Ivan took Yao's face into his hands. "Please, bear with it for now..." He also uttered a few things in Russian; it seemed like he was hushing Yao. Although he couldn't understand a thing Ivan was saying, he still appreciated how beautiful, and how soothing his voice sounded. _

He couldn't seem to remember anything after that. He just assumed he had fallen asleep the moment he slid back into position, under his sheets.

He piled up the scarf to one side of the bed. It was absurdly long. Well, it was expected, considering Ivan's build. He tried to sit up, but something heavy was latched around one of his hands. He looked at what it was and found something he wasn't sure whether to pity, or to be happy at. He merely smiled at what he saw-Ivan. The bottom half of his body was sprawled across the floor; the top half was leaning on the side of the bed. His head was tipped near Yao's side, and his face was tilted, delicately facing him. His hand had a grip on Yao's.

A small blush crept up, and found its way to the Chinese's face.

After seeing how the Russian appeared, Yao could not, or more appropriately, _would rather not_ sit up anymore. In fact, he made up his mind to do his best not to move an inch. He knew if he made any slight movement, Ivan would surely wake up. And he would not want that. Plus, he liked it better that way.

Ivan.

_Ivan, aru_.

He shifted a bit to get a better look at him. He noticed how shiny Ivan's hair was, like delicately crafted strands of pure platinum, and how soft his cheeks were. Yao had a sudden urge to touch them. He really wanted to, so he tried to reason out to his logically-thinking mind that Ivan was asleep, and that he practically wouldn't feel anything _because_ he was asleep.

But it was too late. Yao's less reasonably-thinking side had already gotten the best of him. He turned to his side, where Ivan was. He felt a small drop of hesitation as he watched his free hand hover over the Russian's face. He hel his breath for a moment and thought about it again.

_Don't think, Yao-hyung. Just do! _Yong Soo's voice rang madly.

And for the first time ever, Yao actually did something his youngest brother suggested. He let out a relieveing breath as he gave in, gliding a finger down Ivan's face, tracing his magnificent features. He concluded that he was right. Ivan's cheeks _were_ soft, _and_ smooth. He smiled in spite of himself. He caressed Ivan's face longingly. If it were possible, Ivan would have probably melted with the way Yao gazed at him. Not having been satisfied, Yao diverted his attention to the other's hair. It had a nice, snowy silver shade. Yao thought it looked absolutely beautiful. He ran his hand through Ivan's head, and did it again. The strands of his hair were fine. He became occupied with letting his hand have its way with Ivan's hair, that he was almost scratching his head, like one would do to a dog.

Little did he know that Ivan woke up by the touch of his hands, and was apparently enjoying himself. The happy Russian supressed a smile. Yao's hand on his head felt good.

_This is probably how a dog would feel_, Ivan thought.

He opened his eyes a bit, and saw that Yao was staring blankly as he scratched his head.

"Good morning, Yao," he greeted, finally letting the smile slip.

"Huh...?" He blinked away his blank stare and found Ivan smiling at him. He also realized what his hand was doing. His face turned a light pink. "I-Ivan! I-" He snatched his hand back. "I'm sorry about that," he stuttered. "I-I could explain-"

"Ah, it is good that you have regained some color."

"I- I have-"

Before he could think of anything to add to that, Ivan firmed up, and discreetly took his hand away from his, which Yao had, thankfully, not noticed. Then, he reached for the Chinese's neck, and set his hand across.

"Your fever has come down," he informed, smiling as he always does. "Good news, is it not?"

"I... Yes. It is, aru..." He breathed. His throat didn't hurt as much as before. He couldn't think of anything to say, either.

"I shall fetch you some tea," he said, standing up.

Yao wanted to tell him that he didn't need to get him anything, but the other had already left for the kitchen, which had left him mentally conversing with himself. He argued in his head what to say when Ivan comes back, and what he should do to, eventually, thank him.

Ivan took pretty long. He had to bring the tea to a boil again, which took up most of his time. He walked into the room, a cup in his hands. Yao automatically sat up, and waited.

"Are you well enough to sit?"

"Yes, aru."

"Please be sure of that."

"Of course," he said. "By the way, I'm planning to go to work today."

"You are not allowed."

"Huh? Why not?"

"Because you are in need of rest. Please, spare one day. You must regain your strength before you return to work."

Yao looked at him, and met his eyes. They didn't look like they were going to give up talking him out of this too easily. But he still tried, "but Ivan..."

"If I permit you to go, I would be going against my promise to your brother."

There he goes again with his _promise_.

Yao sighed loudly. "Fine. Nevermind."

"Wise decision." He grinned happily as he handed Yao his tea.

Even though Yao was capable enough, Ivan still wanted to help him with everything. Yao appreciated that, of course. Although, it was a wee bit uncomfortable. He wasn't used to let other people look after him. Well, it was always just his mother who took care of him all those years, after all.

"Umm... Ivan?" He began, not looking up. He had his hands around the tea that sat on his lap. He could feel heat slowly crawling up his neck.

"Yes?"

"I... You know... About last night... Umm, you see... I wanted... I..." He breathed out frustratedly, then muttered under his breath, "I'm not doing any good at this, aru... I feel pathetic..."

"Yao-"

"Wait, let me talk first," he said, finally looking up. Ivan saw that his face was beginning to turn red again. "Alright." He closed his eyes, and took a nice, deep breath. With a loud huff, Yao looked straight into Ivan's eyes, and said, "Ivan, I wanted to thank you for last night. So, thank you for looking after me. Now, If there's anything I could do to repay you, just tell me, aru."

He waited.

No answer. Just an innocent smile.

"Well? Do you have anything in mind?"

"I do not need repayment."

"Huh? Surely there must be _something_ you'd like, aru?"

"To be granted the privilege to stay with you is adequate repayment."

"I..." Like everytime he misheard, or more accurately, he _thought_ he misheard something, he asked, "what?"

"It would make a very gallant repayment-no, a gallant reward to stay with you," he stated.

"Well... That's..." He hung his head, the redness in his face deepened. "I guess..."

"I would be very pleased with that."

"Then..." Yao looked down. "It'd be fine, if you stayed longer, I suppose, aru..."

Ivan smiled; he got what he wanted.

_Please, _do_ stay longer, aru_.

_Ho~hum_

"So Clara, you just got home last night, huh? How come you still went here? You should've just stayed home, the long trip must've been pretty tiring."

"Hah, and _you're_ acting all concerned," she scoffed. She giggled when he shot her an annoyed look. "Yeah, well... Duty calls. This has been scheduled long before I decided to pay home a visit," she said, sorting out folders, and setting them down on the desk.

"Wow," he started. "Now _that_'s commitment. Too bad not all people are like you." He took out a few pens from a box. "So, how was your vacation?"

Brown eyes looked up at him. "It was great. As in, _really_ great. I can't believe so much has changed since I was last home." She went back to the folders, and smiled reminiscently.

With the way they talked, no one would ever guess that there had once been a relationship that bound them together. They acted as if nothing ever happened, as if what they had been through was some simple, petty matter. The both of them were doing a great job at keeping themselves discreet.

"Really, now? Tell me about it," the blonde poked, simpering as he set up a couple of chairs.

"Well, for starters, there's the new president and all, but my dad doesn't really like him," she began, gradually getting excited. "Anyway, I helped out in our farm, and everything was just gorgeous! I loved how golden the wide rice fields were, and how smooth the mangoes' skin was. And the sweet poatoes, and the _durian_s were great, too. Oh, right, then there was a ton of fiestas, and my cousins always invited me to come party with them. And the food, oh, don't get me started with the food. Everything back there was just awesome. Hands down, everything you could possibly eat was great. I had a blast with all my cousins, and everyone, and then..." Her excitement came to an abrupt stop. A fragment of her memory suddenly plastered itself on her mind. "And then..." She paused.

_Mama, Papa..._

"Clara?"

She held back, although a small tear fleed from the corner of her eye, and trickled down her cheek.

"Clara?"

She subtly wiped it away with the back of her hand, and turned to face the blonde. She smiled sweetly.

"I brought a ton of food from back home. Want some mangoes?"

"You mean the sweet yellow ones?"

"Yeah. The sweet yellow ones."

"Awwe hell, I love those!"

...

"Alright, then. Thank you very much," he said, shaking hands as he finished speaking to his brother's homeroom adviser.

"Thank you, too, Mr. Kirkland," she said, shaking hands with him.

He turned around to leave. Blue eyes were looking up at him.

"What did you talk about?" The child asked.

"Your behavior."

The younger blonde let out a small gasp. "What did she say?"

"She said you've been considerably silent since last week."

"Oh... Right..." Peter's head was sent back to the _things_ that had just happened recently.

"Come on, then. Let's go," he said, stretching out his hand.

Peter took his brother's hand, and they both left. The corridors were packed with teachers, parents, and children alike, and the noise that floated above the crowd was just loud. Despite being vexed with the noise, Arthur tightened his hold on Peter's hand as they squeezed through the wave of people. It was troublesome to make their way through it; people kept going the opposite direction, and there were some who simply stood there and blocked the way.

Arthur's patience ran out, and he decided to just carry Peter. They eventually found daylight.

"Arthur, you can put me down now," the younger blonde said.

"Okay." He carefully set him down. "There's a lot of people out here," Arthur mentioned.

"I know why."

"Oh, really? Why is that, then?"

"Our teacher told us that the local hospital's doing free check-ups here," he said. He purposely didn't say the name of the _local hospital_. He stood, tiptoed, to scan the place for a tent, or a booth or something. "Oh, over there!" He pointed out to a tent behind a few desks. Arthur turned to look where the lad was pointing at.

_Free Dental and Medical Check-Ups. _

Below it read, _For kids and adults._

Peter spotted a certain someone, and his mischievous child psyche sprouted an idea. He was expecting, or more suitably, he _wanted_ something to happen.

He grinned. "Let's go over there, I wanna see it!"

Arthur wasn't convinced. "Peter, you could just have your check-up at-"

"No, it's boring there! I wanna go here!" He clung on his brother's arm, like how children do, and started pulling him to the place.

"But Peter-"

"Please, Arthur?" He looked at him with the infamous puppy dog eyes.

"Peter..."

Ah, the charm of children.

"Fine," he sighed, defeated.

Peter smiled happily, and resumed pulling him to the tent.

"No cavities, and your teeth are pearly white and shiny! If you want to keep them that way, then be sure to brush your teeth everyday, okay?" A blonde with glasses told the kid as he stood up.

"I promise!"

"Alright, then! Bye!" The dentist said, giving the kid a high five.

"Bye, doctor Alfred, thanks!"

"Bye! Take care, now!" He waved. He wiped his hands and recognized a familiar blonde being hauled in by a smaller one. He smiled as they approached. "Hi, there, Arthur!" He turned to the other, "and hello, there, Peter!"

The child looked up at him, slightly confused. "You know my name?"

"Well, yes," Alfred said, grinning broadly. "Your brother here told me so."

"Oh. Okay." Peter smirked. "Well, I told him I wanted to have a check-up here, so I asked him if I could, and he said yes."

Arthur remained quiet where he stood, not knowing the appropriate thing to do. It seems he still couldn't recover from the shock of the dentist's confession.

"Well, then, your guardian, which in this case is Arthur, should sign a couple of things first." He floundered over a nearby desk for some papers. He glanced back and asked, "is the check-up just for the child, or for both child and adult?"

"We both-"

"Just for the child," Arthur interrupted.

"Oh, okay, then." He went back to the papers on the desk. "Here you go," he said, finally getting a hold of a folder. He handed it to Arthur, who took them. "Right. You should fill these up," he pointed out a few stuff, "up until here, except these two." Arthur nodded. "And then, your signature over printed name over here."

"Alright, thank you," the Briton said, pulling out a pen from one of his pockets.

"No problem," Alfred answered. He turned to Peter. "Now _you_," he began, his tone playfully threatening.

"Now, _me_," Peter said with the same tone.

The dentist chuckled. "Now, you come here," he escorted the child to a pediatrician who was rummaging through a box, "you stay here with her, and she'll get your blood pressure, and your body mass index."

"My what?"

"Your body mass index," he repeated.

"Uhh... What's that?"

"It's the standards that say whether you're underweight, overweight, obese, or normal."

"Oh. Okay, then."

"Hey, Clara!"

A busy woman had unblemished, tan skin, and light chocolate eyes. Her cheeks glowed a mild pink that nicely complimented her skin tone, and her hair was a rich obsidian, neatly tied back in a ponytail with a ribbon that was decorated with a fragrant, white flower. She was a beautiful sight. She seemed demure enough to be compared to the delicateness of a flower, but what she was doing completely contradicted the idea. She was violently ransacking through the contents of a heavy-looking box that she held. She paused.

"Yes?"

"This kid's up for a check-up," Alfred explained.

"Oh. Sure thing," she said.

The dentist walked off. Peter stayed where he was, and watched Alfred as he made his way back to the Briton.

"Just give me a second," she told Peter. She went away from the pitiful box she was rummaging through, and faced the small blonde. She waved, and put on one of her sweet, welcoming smiles."Hello, there."

Peter looked at her. "Hi."

"Why don't you sit here?" She pulled a chair from a table, and offered it to him.

"Thank you," Peter politely answered as he took his seat.

She flipped through a folder, then glanced at him. "So, what's your name?"

He stared at her with utmost child curiosity. "I'm Peter Kirkland."

"Oh. Hi, Peter. I'm Clara," she said, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Peter shook hands with her, and continued eyeing her. She smiled, and put away the folders she was skimming through, then went to look for her digital sphygmomanometer.

"Your eyes are pretty."

Clara looked at him, trully bewildered. "I'm sorry?"

"Your eyes are pretty," he repeated.

"But not as pretty as yours," she chuckled. "Your eyes are a beautiful, light blue. It's sort of like the kind of blue the sky gets when it's sunny. And you know what? Not everyone's eyes are like that. As for me, I just have brown ones. There's really nothing special about them, and they're pretty common."

"No, they're not. Somehow... They're different. And, they're pretty. They're brown and pretty," he insisted. "And your flower's pretty, too." He was referring to the little, white flower poking out the ribbon she wore in her hair.

She appreciated his persistence. "Alright, alright." She gave up. "Thanks."

Peter glanced back at his brother. "Umm..." He hesitated, a bit fidgety.

She looked at him. "Yes?"

He seemed agitated. "Would it be okay if we moved closer to them?" He gestured to the two older blondes.

"Uhh, sure, it's fine. But why?"

"Well..." And he explained Arthur's situation, and what he wants to do about it.

She gave him a naughty smile, denoting her approval. "So you want to eavesdrop on them?"

Peter nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I want to get them closer!"

Normally, an adult would disprove the idea, but as for Clara...

She was no normal adult.

"Okay," she sniggered She kept a pen, and a piece of paper close by, and took a few more contraptions from places. She dragged the stool, where Peter sat, near the two blondes, behind a bush, so as not to attract too much attention. "Let's not be too obvious." The kid agreed. "Now, stand up and let's take your height."

And they began to eavesdrop.

"So, Arthur," he started. He was trying not to sound awkward, and just be _normal_. Especially after the sudden confession he gave. "I... I'm not asking for any answers right away, if that's what you're thinking," he stammered. The Briton didn't answer. "Well anyway, I was just wondering if you're free tonight..."

The Briton paused from filling up the paper, and thought for a moment. He had an idea where that was about to go.

"Not really. Why do you ask?"

_Here's my chance. _

"Well, I was thinking if you and Peter could come over at my house, and have dinner tonight. Then, I thought, maybe, we could watch a movie or something..."

"Well, I-"

"We'd love to come!" Peter yelled as he sprang out from the bush he and Clara were hiding in. The latter was scribbling down notes on a sheet of paper.

"What?" Arthur blurted out.

"Really?" Alfred asked, hopeful.

"Yeah! Dinner would be great!" Peter really sounded awfully consenting.

"Wait, are you even done with your check-up? You were surprisingly enthusiastic about it," Arthur reminded, planting a hand on his waist.

"Yes, he is," Clara interrupted, showing the Briton the piece of paper where she plotted Peter's health status. "He seems to be in perfect condition. BP's ninety over sixty, and his BMI says he's normal, not underweight, not overweight. Although, he's pretty much near being overweight, so I suggest giving him a healthy diet. Put in lots of fruits and vegetables."

"Huh? But I don't like vegetables!" Peter complained.

"But you should eat them, because if you don't, you'll grow into a fat pig, do you want that?" Clara threatened.

The child shook his head fervently.

"Alright, then." She turned to Arthur, "here you go. I also listed a few things to keep him stable at being normal."

Arthur took the paper, and darted through the whole thing. "Thank you."

Peter was already talking to Alfred, and making arrangements.

"Our house is just down Narcissus street. It's the peach one with the weird hedges my brother cut. And there are a couple of garden gnomes, and fairies, too. Trust me, you won't miss it."

Alfred nodded as he took down mental notes. "Narcissus street? That's convenient. I live pretty near there," he babbled with a grin crawling on his face. "Are you sure this is alright with him?"

"Of course. It's fine with him." Peter waved a hand in dismissal.

"Okay, then. Is seven fine?"

"Yeah!"

"Peter! What are you doing?" Arthur blistered.

"I was just telling Alfred he should pick us up at seven."

"What?" He wore a distorted, disbelieving face. "B-But I never agreed..."

The dentist gave him the notorius puppy dog face, and the classic, damply glimmering eyes. Lucky for him, Arthur was a huge sucker for that kind of thing. Seeing the American's clear, blue eyes behind the glasses, he sighed at utter defeat, just as he was with his brother.

He grunted, and looked away. "Fine," he breathed almost angrily. He wasn't prepared to face him just yet, but he'll take the chance to. "Seven o'clock, then. Our house is in Narcissus street. It's on the left if you're coming from Carnation road. It's the peach one with the hedges. Did you get that?" He didn't even take a small glance at Alfred.

"I did."

He took Peter by the hand. "We'll be going, then."

"Umm... Okay. Bye."

"Thank you, Clara!"

"You're welcome, Peter," she answered with a smile. "Take care, and listen to what your brother says, okay?"

"I will!"

"Thank you," Arthur told her.

"No problem." She smiled at him.

The Briton gave the pediatrician a curt nod, and left.

When the two siblings were already far out of earshot, Clara began cackling madly. The way she laughed was abnormally obnoxious.

"What are _you_ laughing at?" The dentist asked, raising a brow.

"Well," she started when she finally caught up with her breath. "I honestly didn't think you would find a replacement for me within two weeks."

Alfred frowned. "He's not a replacement. I... He's... Look, I really-"

"Awwe, just drop it," she interrupted. "So, how much do you like him? No, wait-where did you meet him?"

Her enthusiasm was plainly masking how much emotion she wanted to let explode. But it was also her form of prevention: prevention from the awkwardness, and the uneasiness that usually take place after-

"Good morning! I see the two love birds are at it this early," Francis greeted as he walked over in his scrub suit.

"Francis," Clara said in a sing-song voice. "Didn't I tell you? We're already done. It's all over." She spoke of it as though it were a perfectly normal thing.

"And hadn't _I_ told you to patch things up?"

"Yeah, well... It didn't work. It was just too late to do anything about it."

They were talking like Alfred wasn't listening.

"Look, let's just drop it at that, okay?"

At least, Francis knew when not to talk about stuff. "Alright. So, how was your vacation?"

"Wait, before she perpetually starts talking about her country, let me ask something first. Where's my brother?" Alfred asked.

The Frenchman smiled. "He's at home. I told him to take a break. He looked exhausted yesterday."

Alfred's lips tilted downward. "If you say so."

Francis turned back to Clara. The pediatrician enthusiastically started telling him stories about the things she did back home, in the Philippines.

.

..

...

* * *

**A/N:** Right. Since reliable (or, at least I think they are) sources say that Philippines' name is Clara Dela Cruz, I decided to be rash, so I used that name. I thought it would be more dramatic that way. (feel free to tell me I'm an ass if you think so) :D

*thinks* oh, right. I saw that majority of the people who read this are from America... Could I ask for some help? Is there a business-oriented city/state (but preferrably a city) that has a Ferris wheel? I need it for... Stuff. I'll explain when someone obliges. x)

I'm planning to write a few one-shots, and hopefully a couple of chapterfics, including a team-up with someone (you know who you are). Oh, wait-I've just realized... Panda's sort of gonna end pretty soon. ;_; But hey, I'll still keep writing. That is, if anybody cares. :D

Right. Perk me up, and leave me a review, ne? :D

*shutting up now*


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N:** First of all, belated Happy UN day~! :D We made flags at school, and we hung them out the corridors. (Yes, I know it's childish, but it wasn't _my_ idea. Our Social Studies teacher had a fetish, so... *stare*) Well anyway, I was happy 'cause it reminded me of Hetalia. xD

Guess what? I just read Hetalia last night, and I saw something adorable: Lithuania and Poland... Yeah, I know they're going strong, but with what I've read, they'd make a perfect, melodramatic tandem. 3 Hmm, to those who are my friends at Facebook, I'll post the manga page on my wall~ xD

I'll babble on later.

Bon apetit~

...

..

.

* * *

Chapter 17

"Yeah, yeah, I get it already," the Korean insisted as he tied his shoelaces. "Don't worry, I'm just gonna get a few stuff, and I'll get my ass back here. Trust me, I'll be back before you know it."

"Just be sure of it. We still have to practice the skit."

"Of course we do," he said, sarcastic. "Come on, just say it. You're making me rush because you know you're just going to miss me," Yong Soo hooted.

The Chinese blushed, but did his best to keep a straight face. "As if."

"Alright, alright. Now, for my good bye kiss-"

Hong Kong's hand was painfully slapped against Yong Soo's face, pushing the latter's puckered-up lips away.

"Ffey! Oll oi wanted wuff a fmall, good bye kiff!" He said, muffled.

He snatched Hong Kong's hand away from his face, and prepared to tackle the Chinese. The latter tried to resist, but the other was determined for some pay back. Yong Soo was doing his best to grope every part of Hong Kong he could possibly get his hands on. In turn, Hong Kong tried harder to evade his monstrous hands, but unfortunately for him, he accidentally touched the twirl of hair sticking out of Yong Soo's head.

"Oh no..."

Hong Kong knew what that meant.

The Korean turned red. His breathing suddenly became uneven. "Hong Kong..." He trailed. "You _are_ aware of what you've done... Aren't you? Now I want you," he breathed. "_So bad_..."

"No! No, you don't! Just get out already! Get out, and go home!" He started forcing him out the door, but Yong Soo was dead serious. He knew what he wanted.

"Hong Kong... You should take responsibility for this. I want you so, _so_ bad right now..." He had his arms stretched out, ready to grab the innocent Chinese. "Come here!"

It's times like these that it's perfectly fine to panic. Just because there's a valid reason.

"I said _no_, okay? Now, get out!"

"But-!"

And with one, strong push, Hong Kong managed to get rid of him.

"That was a close one," he sighed, relieved. "I just touched his curl. If he got a hold of me, I don't know what could have happened..."

He shuddered, and shoved out the thoughts.

Outside, he stared at the door that was just slammed into his face. He was very disappointed that he didn't get what he wanted, especially after getting his curl touched. All his heat cooled like a harsh winter. Yong Soo made his duck face. He sighed, turned away, and began walking. A couple of minutes later, he rounded a corner to their street; he was already nearing their house. As he mumbled to himself about how he'll deal things with Hong Kong the moment he sets foot back into his house, he noticed a familiar someone walking on the other side of the street, opposite his direction. He lit up with a smile.

"Hey!" He yelled, waving a hand. "Hey, Clara!"

Yong Soo caught the woman's attention; she smiled at him, and returned his wave. "Hi, Yong Soo!" She continued walking to her house, and stopped just in front of her yard, then waited.

He glanced both ways before he crossed the street to meet her.

"Clara!" He trotted to her with outstretched arms. The woman obliged to his embrace, and cautiously let go before he groped her-just before his hands went anywhere near where they're not supposed to. "When d'you come back?"

"Just last night," she said, grinning broadly. "Hey, guess what?"

"What?"

"I bought home a ton of food from back home, and-"

"Oh! Did you bring any mangoes with you?"

"Duh, of course I did! Want some?"

"Seriously, do you _have_ to ask that?"

Clara giggled. "Right. Anyway, come inside, they're in the living room."

And they did. As soon as they reached the living room, Yong Soo invited himself to plop comfortably on the couch. He looked around and saw a whole lot of boxes lying around. There were boxes that were so huge he was sure he could fit in there, and there were medium-sized ones that could easily be filled with at least six big, watermelons.

"Are all these food?"

"Most of them are."

"You took a lot, huh?"

"_God, yes_. I had to pay extra because of all my luggage."

Different smells fluttered in the air. There was the smell of freshly ground coffee beans, and rice grains, the assorted scents of different tropical fruit, and some continental flowers. In totality, the house had the fragrance of a sunny, tropical summer day.

"I like how your house smells..." He said as he took in a lungful of the house's scent.

Clara looked at him with an amusedly confused expression. "Should I take that as a compliment?"

"Yeah. I mean, your house doesn't smell like any other typical home. It doesn't smell like junk food, or scented air sprays, or anything. It's sort of like... _Natural_. I dunno." He made a duck face. "All I know is that it's great."

"Uhh... Sure, whatever you say." She bent over one of the boxes, and picked up a few large mangoes. "Let me just get something to put these in." She took off to the kitchen, carrying the bunch of sweet-smelling yellow fruit.

While Yong Soo waited, he occupied himself with looking at the things that hung on the walls. He chuckled when he saw Clara's huge wooden spoon, paired with a fork, that hung near the dining table. He also saw a big picture of what looked like her family, and friends. There were at least fifteen people in there, and everybody somewhat resembled each other. It seemed like it was her graduation day; she was at the center, wearing a toga along with a few others. There was a big gold medal around her neck, and she was holding a rolled piece of white paper-a diploma. Yong Soo smiled at that.

"They all look so happy..."

"Alright. Here you go," she said, handing him a brown paper bag.

"Thanks."

"That should be enough, _ano_?"

He took the paper bag. _Wow_. It was heavy. "Are you kidding? This'll be enough to feed me-"

"Give your brothers some," she scolded lightly, putting a hand to her waist.

"Oh. Right. Anyway, this'll be enough to feed us for a week! But, would you have enough for yourself?"

"What are you talking about? There's a lot left. And trust me when I say _a lot_," she pointed out the huge boxes lying around. "Don't worry, they're all full of them." She smiled.

_Clara Dela Cruz _

The girl from the Philippines who lives just across the street from the three siblings' house.

She had her silk, obsidian hair collected neatly in a ponytail, and adorned with a white flower on a pink ribbon. Her eyes were a light brown, and their shape was in the middle of an Asian's, and a European's. Her skin was smooth, unblemished, and had a tan tone, the kind of tan that people in the West crave for. Her body was carved perfectly into shape, although unemphasized due to the clothes she wore. And her smile-her sweet, cherubic smile that never seems to leave her lips, even at the worst times; her smile that would make any other person return them. Although, was it really her smile that makes others do the same, or her optimism?

Clara works as a pediatrician at the hospital where Yao and the others work at. Being Filipino, the generic traits were engraved in her system: her hospitality is as warm as a scorching summer day; her kindness doesn't seem to have an end; not to mention her dedication and hardwork are admirable. And like any other Filipino in the company of his friends, she's always ready to forget manners, have fun, and just be act like an ass like everybody else.

He slumped back onto the sofa, and took a peek inside the bag. "So, how was your vacation?"

That was the most frequently asked question that day.

"It was awesome," she answered. She pushed a box aside and sat on the easy chair at the end of the couch.

He looked up from the mangoes. "So, what d'you do?"

"Well, for starters, the whole family threw a party for me." And then she started telling stories about everything she did when she was home. Yong Soo listen to her, and he even seemed fairly interested, too.

"Wow... That sounds fun," he said, smiling as he daydreamed.

"Oh, trust me, it _is_. You should visit there some time."

"I'd love to!" He exclaimed enthusiastically. "Which reminds me... Did you give any souvenirs to your boyfriend yet?"

"Not yet. And he's not my boyfriend," she said. "Well, _anymore_, at least..."

"Huh?" Yong Soo made a bewildered face. "Wait, as in, you broke up with that American dude that works in the same hospital as Yao-hyung does?"

From time to time, Yong Soo comes over to Clara's house, and hangs around when Hong Kong's busy, or when he doesn't have anything better to do. Since Clara doesn't have anything better to do, either, to kill time, they just talk. They talk about everything. Seriously, _everything_. From cheesy drama on television, to the shape of fruits, to food, to gayness. Everything.

Clara told him about her love life, and in turn, Yong Soo mostly talks about Hong Kong. And lo, they've become pretty good friends.

"Well, I haven't had any boyfriends other than _him_," she explained, almost with the tone of deadpanning.

"What?" Now, his attention was completely focused on her. "What happened?"

She doesn't really feel like answering that. But hey, she's all over it, right?

"Well... It just didn't work out," she said. "Things got complicated."

"What do you mean? Didn't he have enough time for you? Wasn't he paying enough attention to you? Uhh," he thought for more plausible reasons, "did he have another woman? Oh, wait, maybe he had another man? Tell me," Yong Soo whined. With his keenness to know what happened, he sounded like an eagerly gossipping school girl.

She frowned sadly. "He was forcing too much stuff on me, and I was getting a little too full of it, so..."

"By 'stuff'," he added airquotes, "do you mean se-"

"No!" Clara quickly interjected. "Not _that_." She turned a light pink. "I was talking about other stuff. You see, he's been giving me all that Western crap, telling me how to do things _his_ way, and, he always complained when I do things the way we do it back home. And..." She wanted to stop. "Ugh... Do you know what it's doing to me?"

"What's it doing to you?"

"It's killing me," she said. "He's killing who I am."

...

"Hmm... I wonder what she meant by that..." Yong Soo thought to himself as he walked up the lawn. He was carrying the mangoes Clara gave him. "Oh well. I guess I'll just have to ask her some other time." He skipped up the stairs to the front porch, and went inside. His stomach grumbled at the scent of a familiar something simmering in the kitchen. He quickly jogged to where it was coming from, and found an equally familiar scene.

Yao was cooking something, and Ivan stood beside him, watching.

"Hi, _aniki_... Hi, Ivan," he greeted with a wave.

"Da, hello, Yong Soo," Ivan replied, smiling.

Yao glanced behind him. His hands were still maneuvering the wok he was cooking with. "Yong Soo," he said. He spotted the brown paper bag he was holding. "What are those?"

"Mangoes. From Clara," he put the bag down on the counter.

"She's back? Since when?"

"She said she just got home last night."

"Oh. Okay. Did you thank her?"

"Yeah."

"_Properly_?"

"Yes. _I did_."

"Alright, then," he said. "Are you going to stay over for lunch, aru?"

"Nope, I'm just gonna get a few stuff, and I'll get back to Hong Kong's."

"Okay. Did you have breakfast there?"

"Yeah. Hey, I'm just going to get a couple of things in my room," he said.

"Sure."

Yong Soo walked away, but discreetly tapped Ivan. He didn't want Yao to see that, so he did it as quietly as possible. The Russian looked at him. Yong Soo gestured that he come with him. Ivan obliged, and they soon found themselves standing in the living room, talking in whispers.

"What is it?" Ivan asked.

Yong Soo peeped over to make sure his brother didn't notice. After concluding that Yao still had himself glued to his cooking, he said, "I'll make this quick. I just wanted to ask how Yao-hyung was last night."

Ivan smiled consolingly. "Yao came down with a fever." The Korean opened his mouth to say something, but he continued, "but you need not worry. I looked after him."

"Really?" He sounded disbelieving.

"Da. This morning, he proposed to go to work, but I had forbidden him from doing so. I told him that he must rest until he fully recovers."

"Hmm... Alright, then. But, why's he working in the kitchen?"

"He insisted in making lunch. I attempted to change his mind, but he was persistent."

"Oh... Hmm, is he okay now?"

"His fever had come down, and his cold has already subsided."

Yong Soo nodded slowly. "I guess I don't have to worry about anything anymore," he said, honestly relieved. "Well, you could go back to the kitchen now, if you want. Just... Don't tell him I asked you about it, okay?"

"Understood." He grinned before he turned to leave.

"Oh, wait a second."

Ivan glanced at him.

"I... Thanks for taking care of _aniki_."

Ivan smiled. "It is my pleasure." And he went back to the kitchen.

Yong Soo went to his room and packed the stuff he needed for their school project.

"There you are," Yao said as Ivan came back from his little talk with the youngest sibling. "Take a seat, I'm just going to put these on a plate, aru."

Without any replies, he fetched a couple of glasses from a cupboard, and a pitcher from the fridge.

"No, aru, just sit down. I'll do it myself," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

Ivan completely ignored him. He still went on with what he was doing.

"Honestly..." He appreciated that. He helplessly smiled at Ivan's efforts to help him.

When they finally managed to settle down and eat, Yong Soo popped up and told them that he was leaving.

"Are you sure you don't want to take a bite of anything first?"

"I would, if it's Hong Kong," he taunted, which urned him an unamused glare. "Just kidding. Nah. I'm good."

"Alright," Yao said, almost grudgingly. "Take care, then, aru."

"You, too, Yao-hyung. Bye, Ivan," he said.

"Good bye," Ivan followed up.

And hence, the two of them were alone again. At last. Yao thought about trying to convice Ivan to let him go to work, but he remembered what happened a couple of hours before. He had a hard time trying to convince the Russian that he would cook them up something for lunch, what more about going to work?

_"You must eat breakfast," he said. He placed a fresh cup of tea on the bedside table, and gave Yao a full plate of bread. He took some bread from the pantry, and toasted them. Since Yao had the habit of taking his panda everywhere with him, Ivan learned where the things are usually placed. _

_ "Right. Thanks, aru." He took the plate. "I appreciate the concern, but what about you? I mean, you should at least eat something, too. I mean, you were up all night, after all," he said. He stared down at the plate. It was ridiculously full. "Why don't you get some? There's a lot of these, anyway..." _

_ Ivan shook his head, smiling. "You finish all of that, da?" _

_ "No, really. This is a lot. I won't be able to eat everything, so why don't you help me?" He offered the plate to him, "come on. I'm serious." _

_ The Russian sighed, his lips still curved in a small smile. "Alright," he said, taking a piece. _

_ "There you go..." He took a bite out of his own bread; it was nice and warm. "Oh, right. What would you want for lunch?" _

_ Ivan paused. "Lunch?" _

_ "Yes, aru. Lunch. I thought I'd cook some steamed-" _

_ "No, you mustn't cook. You must not even get out of bed, at that," he said in a demanding tone. "All you must do is stay here and rest." _

_ "Huh? But who'll make lunch?" _

_ "I shall deal with it myself." _

_ "No, you won't. At least let me do something, aru. Besides, I can't stand doing nothing. It makes me feel-" _

_ "-useless, da, I am well aware of that. But please, understand. There are certain circumstances that are in need of appropriate actions. Please, bear with it for the time being." _

_ "But Ivan," Yao complained. "Look," he took the other's hand, and sprawled it across his neck. "I don't have a fever anymore, aru." He liked the feel of Ivan's heavy hand against his skin, but he did his best not to make his blush too obvious. _

_ "Da, and we do not want it to get back, which is why you must stay here and rest." _

_ "Why do you have to be so difficult? Tell me, what do I have to do to you to let me do something, at least?" _

_ "Nothing. You are not allowed to leave this bed until you fully recover." _

_ "Come _on_. If you really _were_ my panda, you should know how awful I feel when I say that I feel useless, aru..." Yao frowned, dejected, and defeated. Ivan recognized that face. When he was a child, Yao made that face whenever he didn't get what he wanted. _

_ His conscience suddenly hit him. He didn't think he would go that far. His resolve was shattered to pieces. _

He is such a child...

_ "I assume it cannot be helped," he sighed. "As long as you would get back to rest afterwards." _

_ Like a child, he glanced up at him. "Really?" _

_ "Da." _

_ "I... Sure, thanks, aru..." _

Yao stared blankly at his food as he thought to himself. When his head came landing back to earth, he decided he didn't want to stay in the overtly silent atmosphere.

"So, how is it, aru?"

Ivan looked up at him, somewhat surprised that he spoke. "Magnificent. As always."

He nodded. "That's good..."

Okay, Yao couldn't think of anything else to say anymore. Ivan didn't seem like he wanted to talk about anything, either. So for the rest of what was their lunch, he agonizingly endured the irritatingly annoying awkwardness that sat with them. And, as one of the most unusual chances, Yao wished Yong Soo was there to babble, or at least, _do_ something and hit that awkward silence dead.

_Ho~hum_

"Well, at least he sounds fine," he said.

"Yeah, he looks, and sounds fine, but what do we know about what happened last night?" He panicked and started pacing. "For all we know, Yao-hyung could've probably been raped by that tall Russian guy claiming to be his panda!"

"Oh, _please_." He picked up a glue stick before taking a look at the floundering Korean. "Look, Yong Soo, just because _you_ would rape a poor, defenseless little someone doesn't mean every other person would," Hong Kong reasoned out. "Come on, try and think about it for once."

Yong Soo let out a frantic squeak. "If Ivan really did something to Yao-hyung, then it would be his-"

"Are you even listening?" Hong Kong shot. He was staring to get pissed.

Yong Soo glimpsed at him. "Huh? What were you saying, anyway?"

The Chinese sighed exasperatedly, and threw down the glue stick he just picked up. He stood in front of Yong Soo, took the latter's face into his hands, and squeezed his cheeks, making him make an absurd, comically distorted face. "Listen to me," he started. "Like I said, just because _you_ would do something like _that_-" to him, most probably, "-does _not_, you hear me? Does _not_ mean that he would do something like that, too. Now, do you get it?"

He nodded.

"Good. Now, get your things, and let's start assembling the diorama," Hong Kong said, letting go of the other's face.

"Umm... Hong Kong?" He called.

Just as Hong Kong turned his head, he felt a pair of lips against his cheek. His face turned a light red as he pushed Yong Soo away, embarrassed.

"Whatever."

The happy Korean simpered at contentment.

...

The blonde entered the house, and closed the door behind him. He walked over to the kitchen, expecting to see the other blonde awake. As anticipated, there he was, leaning against the counter; his hair was a mess, his arms were crossed, he had a vicious glare behind his glasses, and utter vexation was practically spelt all over his face.

"So you just got up," Francis greeted.

"Why didn't you wake me up? You even killed my alarm clock..."

"Simple," he began, grinning coolly. "It's because you were working your ass off all week, and I just wanted to give you some time off, you see."

"Francis," he breathed, his tone indignant and complaining.

"All I wanted was you to relax, even just for this weekend. You've been telling me you're tired all week and... Look, how about I make it up to you?" He came closer to the frustrated Canadian, and took his hand. "How does that sound?"

Matthew continued to glare at him; the Frenchman gripped his hand tighter.

"I'm not a kid, Francis... This isn't something you could get over with ice cream, or anything."

"Fine, then." He snaked his hands around the Canadian, pulled him close, and started trailing kisses up his neck. Then, he whispered in his ear, "I won't stop until you give me the go signal..."

"Go signal?" Matthew scoffed violently. "You don't need a go signal, since you're already doing what you want with me. What would a go signal be good for, anyway?"

"A lot of things."

"Yeah, sure," he said with hard sarcasm.

"So, I guess that means you're consenting?" The French asked teasingly.

Matthew bit his lip. He had a brief, mental debate with himself whether or not he would... Umm, agree with anything. He was still considerably angry with him.

His rational side kept telling him to kick Francis in the crotch, so he'd learn a thing or two. But like every half for a whole, his brain's irrational side was practically pleading that he should just go with the flow, and let nature take its course.

"Well?" He asked again.

_God, I swear I'll hate myself for this... _

He took a deep breath.

"Fine. Whatever. Do what you want. I stopped caring," he snapped, looking away. "Just... Really. I have my life, too."

"Of course you do," he purred. "And I want nothing more than to be part of it, if not _being_ it." He grinned.

With what sense of pride he had left, he didn't want to let the older blonde see his face all red. It would just give him more motive to... _Do something_ about it.

"I'm glad... In the end, you gave in," he said, snaking his arms around the Canadian even tighter.

"I hate you right now."

"Yes, of course you do. And I love you, too."

.

..

...

* * *

**A/N:** Right. Uhh, this was sort of a mess... I think. I dunno. You decide. Anyway, I was wondering what you people would want to see on a Sunday with Ivan and Yao... *thinks* I'm totally up for suggestions, I need something to write, since, well, the plot continues on the Monday afterwards. Plus, I couldn't find a clean city with a Ferris wheel, just New York. And I didn't think that New York would fit the setting. [fail at foreign Geographical features]

And besides, I wouldn't want to waste a perfect Sunday worth of RoChu (or other pairings') moments. *grin*

Oh, right. I'd like to thank everybody who still reads this thingy. I visited the traffic for this, and there's at least 200 people who read every chapter the moment I upload it. I'm glad. ;_; to think, the number gets higher everyday... =w=

And to Malkeria, thanks for flooding with reviews. I appreciate it a lot. Now, if you _really_ **do** love me, you're going to turn your personal messaging service on, and you're going to drop me a line. :D (Yes, I am an ambitious little brat) :D

Also, I've propped up a good(?) ending for this fic. So, I hope you guys stick around 'till the end. :)

25 October 2010

1938H


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Umm... Right. At least I managed to fix(?) the first part. n_n; I don't know. You decide.

Anyway, go ahead and read it, ne?

R&R

...

..

.

* * *

Chapter 18

The rest of that afternoon casually strolled by nice, and quiet. In fact, it was a bit _too_ quiet, which ended up being just plain awkward. All the while, Yao had busied himself by restraining himself from doing absurdly irrational things, and more importantly, managing to stop himself from pestering Ivan about letting him do anything, especially going to work. He had already accepted the fact that no matter what he says, or what he does, he would still be treated as a sick, feeble person, which was a tad irritating. He had also accepted the probable action Ivan might take in case he decides to sneak out. He could see it now: he creeps out of the back door, and walks away noiselessly to the hospital. Then, moments later, he would hear heavy footsteps from behind, running to catch up with him. Ivan would desperately call his name out in public, and broadcast their little _situation_ to the whole neighborhood. And he didn't want _that_ to happen.

He shuddered.

He still liked his life. Embarrassment still weighed a lot to be disregarded, so he decided to just stay put.

_"Please bear with it for the time being," Ivan said. His purple eyes gazed down at the Chinese, who was giving him a sad, pleading look. The Russian's conscience yelled at him, nagging at him because he made Yao sad. He sighed, but he still did not give up, "try to view it in this perspective; if I allow you to go to work, then what would become of you if your temperature rises again? Or if a searing headache suddenly strikes, and everything goes black? Circumstances would be more complicated if that were to happen." _

"Well, he does have a point, aru..." He stared blankly at the floor, and tried to remember what else the Russian said.

_"My conscience will never be able to bear that," _he added._ "I shall never be at ease knowing you are at risk."_

Tearing away from his apparently blank stare, he felt heat crawl up his neck, and onto his nose and cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut, and dug his face into his hands, hoping that doing this would help ease the embarrassment that seemed to have been gnawing on him slowly. With a frustrated grunt, he heaved a heavy sigh, and stood up from his bed. He marched out of his room, and headed to the living room. He thought that watching TV would kill some time, and, hopefully, distract him from thinking too much. He hopped on the couch, and switched on the flat screen. He flipped through quite a number of channels, until he caught a glimpse of the Iron Chef America logo.

"Looks like it just started, aru..." He told himself as he sat in complacency in front of the screen.

_Ring... Ring... Ring... _

He scowled at the annoying telephone before he picked it up.

"Hello, aru?"

"_Oh, hello. Yao? Is that you?_"

"Uhh, yes, it is. And this is...?"

"_It's me, Tino. So I guess you're all better?_" It was noisy on his side, but Yao decided to ignore it.

"Uhh... Sort of, aru," he said. "I guess you could say I'm doing better."

"_Okay, if you say so... Anyway, that's basically why I called. I just wanted to check on you. Ivan said your fever went all the way last night, so I got worried." _His concern sounded like that of a mother's.

"Thanks. But I'm fine. Really. You don't have to worry about anything, aru."

"_Well, I guess I don't..." _He began_. "I bet Ivan's doing his best to take care of you, huh?_" He let out a small, short giggle.

"That's-aru, wait, _what_?"

"_Well, he told me so last night, so I figured he'll be doing exactly as he said..._"

A sudden surge of blood came, and painted his face with a live, crimson red flush. He remembered what Ivan said.

_I shall take care of him..._

Blank.

"_Yao? Hello? Are you still there?_"

"I..." He swallowed hard. "Yeah, I'm still here."

"_Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were-ouch! Hey!_"

Then, there was a lot of yelling, and laughing. Or at least it sounded like that.

"Tino? What's happening over there?"

"_Sorry 'bout that. You see, I'm hosting our neighborhood's party, and we're currently in the middle of a puffin chase race. I just snuck off to call you, really,_" the Finn said, sounding apologetic. "_I was worried._"

"Thanks, aru..." He said, earnest.

"_Tino! Get your butt over here!_" Yao heard someone shout in the other line.

"_Alright, alright! I'm coming, Eduard, I'm coming!_" Tino yelled back. And to Yao, "_listen, Yao, I'm really sorry, but I have to go. Get well soon, okay?_"

"Okay, aru. And thanks."

"_Sure thing. Bye._"

He put the phone down, and got back to staring at TV screen. Bobby Flay was doing something weird with coconut milk again. The challenger looked like he was Asian, and he was making steamed buns. Yao grinned at how the challenger did it; that's how he makes them, too. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see Ivan done taking his shower. No one. He was mentally arguing with himself whether or not he was going to whip up a quick snack.

"Those look pretty good, aru..." He said, referring to the steamed buns. He glanced back and forth, fidgety. He couldn't make up his mind.

_Chef Tien's steamed buns look absolutely perfect,_ Alton commented.

His resolve had shattered. "Well, making something before dinner never hurt anybody," Yao told himself as he stood up, and headed to the kitchen, leaving the TV on.

And he began his magic in the kitchen; he was halfway through making his own steamed buns when Ivan walked in on him. It appeared that the Russian had just stepped out of the bathroom. His hair was shining with dampness, and his skin bore the familiar fragrance of the scented soap they use. He looked handsome in the informal shirt he wore. And he would have looked more handsome if he had not been frowning.

"I can explain, aru," Yao snapped defensively, like a child caught red-handed in mischief. He already put the cover over the pot, and started to steam the chocolate buns he had just made. "I know you told me to stay put, but I can't just lay around being unproductive all day. I _had_ to make something useful. I can't take the ignominy," he continued. "Look, after this, I swear I won't do anything. I promise, aru." He held up his pinky, waiting.

Without answering, and without obliging to Yao's pinky swear, Ivan stood in front of him, towering over his frame, and held him gently by the shoulder. He bent his knees a little so his face was directly before the Chinese's. Yao's hazel eyes met Ivan's purple ones. As what happens often, the pallor of his face was replaced with a pink shade. Ivan noticed that, and laboriously restrained a smile, then went on with what he was doing. He sprawled his hand across Yao's forehead, and his other one across his.

"You do not seem to have a fever anymore. And I believe it has not returned since this morning, da?" Yao nodded. Ivan tilted the other's head a bit as he held him by his chin. "And you do not appear to be flushed anymore, either."

He is completely aware that the redness in the Chinese's face was not caused by hormones or chemicals in his body getting it on. It was caused by something else. And he had a pretty good idea what it was. He let go of him.

"You are supposed to be resting," he reminded, skillfully feigning coldness.

He averted his face. "I know. I'm sorry, aru." He glanced up again. He had the look of a child who had done something wrong, and had just been scolded. "Umm... Would you like to stay and eat with me?"

Ivan looked at him gravely. Helpless, his lips broke into a smile. "Da, of course," he said.

Lo and behold, Yao found himself sitting in the table with Ivan, eating. Aside from the chocolate buns, he also made some tea.

"How is it, aru?" He asked as he watched the Russian take a bite from his steamed bun.

"It is delicious," he said, a happy grin on his cherubic face.

Yao beamed at that, and took a bite on his. "Say, you're bipolar, aren't you?"

Ivan smiled warmly. "It has been said. Da." And he explained, "the time I had first joined the military, they had me undergo a psychological test. The doctors had said I am positive for bipolarity."

He nodded, and sipped at his tea. "I thought so, aru..." After confirming that, he began to sink himself in his thoughts, and seconds later, he was fully submerged in them. He was so occupied, he wasn't aware that he was already thinking out loud. "I envy children..."

"For the reason that the most imposing problem they face is choosing which color is prettiest."

"Exactly." Yao trailed, staring emptily as he ate. "They don't have to find solutions, or even think about complicated things. They don't have the kind of problems grown-ups have. They don't have deadlines to make, or projects to finish, or reports to do, or presentations to prepare for. When they do something wrong, the grown-ups are always the ones who're expected to take responsibility for them, and the grown-ups can't do anything about it but understand them... They just... All they do is just play all day, and worry about nothing." He smiled sadly. "And they leave all the hard stuff for the grown-ups to worry about, aru..."

Ivan gazed at him longingly, somewhat sympathizing. "Da. They do."

"And they don't lie. At least, they don't _have to_ lie. All they say is the truth. They leave all the hard parts for the adults to put up with, aru..."

Yao lingered deeper in his reverie. Ivan understood him perfectly. He had let Yao do as he pleased. He kept quiet to make room for the other's thoughts.

"I don't know... It's hard. Sometimes, I feel that... I just want to stop thinking and wish I never grew up..." He snapped away from his daydream as he felt a pleasantly warm hand on top of his. He glanced up at the glimmering purple eyes that gazed almost lovingly at him. A youthful, vibrant blush had found its way to his face.

"Everything will be alright," Ivan told him consolingly.

_Everything will be alright._

His voice was soothing.

_Everything will be alright._

The words rang.

Silence.

The front door slammed loudly. "Hello? Anybody here?"

Emergency crash landing back to earth.

"I-In the kitchen, Yong Soo," Yao hollered, almost stuttering. Footsteps shuffled heavily to the kitchen. "Take a seat, have some of these, aru," he said at the sight of him.

Yong Soo made a face. He gave his brother a teasing smirk before he retrieved a couple of steamed buns for himself. "Hi, Yao-hyung, hi, Ivan," he said.

"Da, pleasant afternoon, Yong Soo," the Russian replied, grinning.

"There's tea in the pot if you like," Yao added.

"Hmm..." A plate in hand, the Korean sat down to join them. "Did I disturb anything?"

Okay. Yao knew what Yong Soo was trying to get at. He pretended nothing worth mentioning happened.

"No," he deadpanned in a harshly monotonous voice.

He pouted. "Are you _sure_?"

"Yeah." And he continued eating.

Ivan smiled to himself as he remained quiet, watching the two. Yong Soo, on the other hand, started munching on his food.

"So, how was your stay at Hong Kong's?" Yao asked. "Had anything done, aru?"

"Well, yeah. We had _a lot_ done," he said with a severe undertone. Before his brother retorted, he firmed up and continued, "well, we managed to finish our joint book report last night, and we also practiced our skit for Tuesday. All we need now is a little more polishing."

"That's good, aru. I remember you told me you wouldn't go partying because you promised Hong Kong that you'd devote Friday night and this whole Saturday to doing school work with him."

The Korean nodded.

Well, yeah, he _did_ do stuff with Hong Kong. Although, they weren't _all_ school work.

"You know something?" Yong Soo started as he stared at his food. It's amazing how short his attention span is. "I don't think it's fair."

"What is?"

"As you know, _I_ was the one who invented the concept of making projects as a component of school requirements," he said proudly, "and I think _I_ should be exempted from doing them!"

Yao sighed. "Eat up, Yong Soo, you're getting delirious again, aru."

"I'm not getting delirious..." He muttered sotto voce.

"Anyway," Yao diverted, "what do you guys want for dinner, aru?"

Ivan frowned at him adorably. "Yao... You had promised you would stay put for the rest of this evening," he shot.

"I..." Yao thought for a second. "Oh, right."

"Oooh..." Yong Soo hooted loudly. "_Aniki_'s being scolded," he teased, which went completely ignored.

"But you didn't make the pinky promise with me, aru."

"It does not matter, you still made the promise," Ivan caught.

"Oooh, and now they're arguing," Yong Soo taunted.

Yao ignored him again. "Why not let's just forget about that, aru? I mean, look, if I'm not going to cook anything tonight, then what're we supposed to eat? Yong Soo can't do anything about it; the closest he's ever come to cooking is taste-testing anything he can, and working the microwave."

"Hey then, why not let _him_ cook something, Yao-hyung?" He suggested, referring to Ivan.

"What?" The eldest snapped.

Ivan was about to react when the middle brother showed up. It seems that they were too busy quarreling loudly that they failed to notice the sound of the door creek open or shut closed. At the sight of him standing in the doorway, they all shut up, and looked at him. For a moment, it was awkward.

"Umm... I'm home." With a small blush, he smiled shyly, then continued, "we were able to catch the deadline this morning."

"That's great, aru," Yao commented, grinning.

"Welcome home," Ivan said, beaming.

"Well, at least tonight's dinner isn't our problem anymore," Yong Soo said.

"Dinner?" Kiku repeated.

"Yeah. Ivan doesn't want Yao-hyung to do anything, since he thinks Yao-hyung's still not well enough."

"Oh... Is that the case?" He glanced at his eldest brother, and the Russian. He smiled subtly. "Okay, then. Let me just get changed," and he took off to his room.

...

"What to wear, what to wear..." He mumbled to himself. He was skimming through his closet, looking for something to wear to his date-err, _dinner_ with Alfred. All day, he had been doing his best convincing himself that he wasn't going on a date, but instead, a simple, friendly dinner. After all, Peter's going to be there, too.

"Arthur!" The lad called as he walked in his brother's room. "I don't think I'm well enough to come with you tonight." He let out a fake cough. "I guess you'll have to go to dinner with Alfred alone..."

The Briton glanced from his shoulder. He had an idea where Peter was going at, it was just _too_ obvious. So, he decided to use the ultimate secret weapon against children: reverse psychology.

"Is that so? Come here, let me see." He beckoned Peter to come to him. "If you really aren't feeling to well," he feigned his innocent concern all too well, "then, I guess I can't go to dinner with him tonight. Of course, I can't leave _you_ all alone."

"Huh? B-But why?"

"Well, because I can't. What kind of sick, monsterous, irresponsible adult would leave an ill child all alone? _Certainly_ not your brother, oh no." At this point, he plainly sounded like someone who was reading a script in a terribly mechanical, ineffective manner.

Nevertheless, easily swayed, the child fell for it.

"What? No, you should go!" He said. "I'll be alright, I swear! I-I'm fine, see?" He stretched out his little arms, and wiggled them. "So you should go with him, Arthur! You definitely should!"

"What did you say?" He asked, still going on with his act. "You just said you were fine. Which is it? Are you well, or are you feeling ill?"

"I... Uhh... I..."

_Oh, shoot... If I say I'm sick, he'll surely cancel his date. But if I say I'm alright, then, we're going to dinner at Alfred's house, and... Wait-that means I can watch... _Everything_. Then, if I act right, this could be better than leaving them alone! _

"Well?" Arthur prodded, raising a rather very thick brow.

"I'm sorry. I'm fine, really."

"Right. I though so," he said, grinning. "You know, you should've just pretended to be sick," he joked.

"Huh? Why? Don't you want to go?"

"Well," he turned to face his closet again, "it's not that I don't want to go..."

_It's more like I _can't_. _

"Then what is it?"

"Wait, you aren't supposed to be talking to me about this _now_. Are your clothes ready?"

Oh, he's good at divert and distract tactics.

"Yes, captain!" He said with a playful salute.

"Good. Now, off you go to the shower, Peter."

"Aye, aye, captain! Oh, wait-I know! Why don't we take one together?"

_Ho~hum_

_Ding Dong_

"Oh geez..." He moaned.

He stood up from the couch, and reluctantly walked away from the TV. He slouched lazily to the front door, still having the irritated expression on his face, like he always does. He opened the door, and a certain German blonde stood there, all dressed-up, waiting.

"Oh. It's you," he said nonchalantly. "My brother's upstairs." He stepped aside so the visitor could enter. He yelled over his shoulder, "hey, Feliciano, you ass! The potato fuckard's here to pick you up!"

It was a very good thing that the blonde was used to the other's profanity.

"Ve~ Ludwig's already here?" The younger Italian shouted from upstairs.

"No, he's not, it's just his ghost!" He squalled, awfully sarcastic. "Duh, of course, he is, you ass! Would I tell you if he wasn't?"

Even though he was used to them, the German winced at how loud the older Italian's voice was.

"Ve~ You've got a point. Anyway, Ludwig, I'm in my room, getting dressed! I'll be down in a minute!"

"Sit in the living room if you want," Lovino told him, shuffling back to the couch where he was previously slumped in. The blonde followed him.

Lovino acted like Ludwig wasn't there. Well, Ludwig didn't give a damn about it. He was busy poking at the buttons on his Blackberry.

"I'm ready!" The younger Italian said as he trotted down the stairs. Ludwig stood up from his seat, and met up with him. Feliciano had his usual simper across his face as he greeted him. "Ludwig! I missed you!" The blonde had let him embrace him for a moment, but let go soon after. "You know, I've been doing stuff recently, and they're really, really fun, and I really think that you should..."

He wrapped the Italian's curl on his finger, and lightly tugged on it. "Feliciano, why don't you keep quiet?"

The younger Italian couldn't even struggle to free himself; his face began to flush a vicious shade of red. He spoke in low moans and whimpers, "Ludwig... I... N-No, please... Don't..."

"We're going," Ludwig told Lovino.

The older Italian glanced at them. When he saw what the blonde was doing to his brother, his eyes widened at shock. He immediately stood up, and yelled, "hey! What do you think you're doing, you fuckard? I knew you were kinky, but I didn't think you'd go _this_ far!"

"Huh?"

"Why are you doing that?" He sounded very panicky.

"I wanted him to shut up, and just recently, I figured out that when you pull on his curl, he keeps really quiet," he explained innocently. He pulled on it. "Why?"

"Ludwig... Please... S-Stop..." Feliciano pleaded.

"Don't touch him _there_!" He shouted, slightly turning red. "Get your fucking hands off him, you perverted bastard!"

Still clueless, he asked, "what are you saying?"

"Ugh! Are you always _this_ fucking slow?" He tried to grab the German's hand, but the latter had hauled it up so he couldn't reach it.

"_Seriously_, what do you mean?" He violently tugged at Feliciano's curl again.

"No!" The younger Italian groaned. Oh, he was so red, and God knows too well what he was feeling. "L-Ludwig... Please, don't..."

"What's all the noise about?" The door cracked open, and Antonio came in with his usual grin across his face. At the sight of Feliciano and Ludwig, "hey Lovino, I guess we're not the only ones who have plans tonight-"

The older Italian instantaneously jumped at him, and grappled at his shoulder. He automatically pointed at what Ludwig's hand was doing. Lovino had a look of terrified horror. The Spaniard merely blushed lightly.

"My friend," he started at the German, "let's be reasonable about this. Why don't you stop that, and let go of his curl?"

"Why would I stop just when I finally found something that could shut him up?"

"Well, because..." He positioned himself next to the tall blonde, stood on tiptoe to reach him, and whispered something in his ear.

Ludwig nodded at comprehension, and did as he was told. Feliciano gasped breathlessly when the blonde let go of his curl. Ludwig looked a bit shocked. Well, it was either he was shocked, or he was extremely disturbed by the revelation.

"You get it _now_, you fucking ass?" Lovino shot.

"Well," he coughed, slightly embarrassed with himself. "I had no idea that _that_'s what really happens when you pull on his curl. If you told me sooner, I would've understood," he told Lovino who just folded his arms, and rolled his eyes.

"That's fine," Antonio said brightly. "So don't do it again, okay? Unless you really want to, I suppose."

"Uhh... Right." He fixed his collar. "At any rate, Feliciano and I would be going now. We might come home late."

"Oh, take your time," the Spaniard consented happily.

"You can haul him back in the morning. Just don't do anything stupid to him, got that?"

"I'll be sure to remember that." He walked out the door with the younger Italian at his tail.

"Oh, and don't give him AIDS or anything."

Ludwig merely waved a hand in dismissal.

As the door creeked shut, Antonio smiled, and heaved a sigh. "Well, at least we're alone now."

.

..

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* * *

**A/N:** To be honest, I thought that this chapter sucked. But before I uploaded it, I read it again, and thought, no, it didn't. :D

Anyway, in the next chapter, I'm going to put the first hint to the ending of this. (Gah... Ending.. ;_;) That is, if anybody cares. Whatever. x)

Oh, and to those who still stuck around up 'til now, I thank you all. I hope it gets to you that I appreciate you a hell lot. :D

Oh, right. If there's anything, and if I could manage to put it in here, tell me what you want to see, alright?

Haha, I don't know... Leave me a review, okay? Thanks~

2 November 2010

2209H


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N:** And lo, after almost three weeks... Right. Sorry for the unexplained disappearance. I'll explain later.

Anyway, I hope you don't think that this chapter sucks. *stares*

R&R

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Chapter 19

"Alright, Narcissus street..." He mumbled to himself as he took a left turn from Carnation road.

He drove into the street, and the excitement that gradually began to trickle into him the moment he started to prepare for his _dinner_ was now streaming in like water in some mad, water-themed amusement park ride.

"Let's see... A peach house with weirdly-cut hedges, a couple of garden gnomes, and fairies..." He slowed down as he eyed the houses on the left side of the street, hoping to see one that matched Peter's description. "He said it's hard to miss-oh."

Impulsively, he abruptly stopped the car. He was too deep in shock that the inertia that almost threw him into his windshield was thoroughly ignored.

"Woah. He wasn't kidding when he said it was hard to miss," he told himself. He gawked at the sight for a couple of minutes, and took it all in. He blinked twice, and then shook himself back into reality. He took a deep breath. "Alright. I can do this."

So he got out of the car, and walked up to the Kirklands' front porch. As he strode through the lawn, he stole a few glances of the hedges. Almost all of them appeared to be deformed mythical creatures, although there was a noticably strange one that practically snatched his attention away from his grasp. It was shaped like a poorly mutated unicorn. If it weren't for the unnaturally large hind and limbs that stuck out, it woud have probably looked more like an enormous hotdog with four feelers. He walked past the thing, then saw two garden gnomes near one of the misshapen hedges. They appeared to be angry, and looked as if they were ready to kill him if he dared to take another step closer to them. It was a good thing that the fairies beside the mutant unicorn hedge seemed fairly welcoming.

Apparently, the only normal thing in the overtly distorted garden was the large shrub that Alfred had just noticed: a rose bush. Even if the light was weak, he was still able to make out how pretty it was. It was well-kept; the leaves were lush, and the flowers were superb. The light emanating from the moon illuminated them perfectly. He smiled at their elegance.

Alright, he felt more confident now. The flowers seemed to have lent him a small ounce of courage.

He trod up to the door, and raised his hand to ring the doorbell, but just as he was about to do so, he immediately pulled it back.

"Wait. I-I have to check myself first," he gingerly reminded himself. "Let's see... Clothes," he looked down at what he had on himself; he regarded all the buttons on his shirt, and made sure he did not appear obscene, "check." He took another glance, "good, I have my pants on." He patted his shoulder, and continued, "breath." He licked his wrist, and sniffed it. "Still minty fresh," he said. "Hair," he ran a hand through his head, and smoothed out his hair. The usual curl still stood, unwavering. "Now... What am I forgetting?" He asked himself. He scanned the surroundings for any ideas. His eyes landed on the rose bush. It took him a minute or so to figure out the clue. "Oh, crap!" He panicked. "I don't have any flowers to give him! Oh-wait. Do I _need_ to give him flowers?" He gave it a second thought. "Well... This _is_ a date." He deliberated with himself whether or not it would be awkward to give Arthur a flower or two. He threw another glimpse at the roses; they stared back at him, blank and waiting. He let out a hard breath out his mouth and decided, "whatever." He skipped down to the bush, and reached out for the most pompous flower he could find. He found a big, gorgeous blossom, grabbed it, and pulled on it with one, swift tug. "Ow!" He pricked his finger. He put some pressure on the bleeding area, and wiped the blood off with the hem of his shirt. Then, he went back to the front door. "Alright. Flower: check." He rang the door bell.

"Peter, could you get that for me?" He heard Arthur request from inside.

"Sure thing!"

There were little footsteps that trotted towards the door. Peter's small frame appeared in the doorway, and the child looked up at him. The lad evidently suppressed a giggle when he saw the rose in Alfred's hand.

"Hi, there," Peter greeted.

"Hi, Peter," he answered, waving a hand. "So, where's Arthur?"

"He's inside. Wait here, I'll go get him," he said, a typical grin on his face. Just as he turned to leave, his brother walked in from the living room.

"Peter, who was..." Arthur cut himself mid-sentece at the sight of the dentist. There was a certain gleam in his emerald eyes. "Oh, hello, there. You're on time, I see."

Arthur looked smart wearing an informal, button-up shirt, similar to his.

On the other hand, Alfred looked stunningly stupid as he stared at the Briton. "H-Hi," he began. "Umm, here," he held up the flower he just picked.

Peter simply watched them, doing his best not to burst out laughing and ruin the moment.

Arthur took it, and examined it carefully. A thick brow raised. "By any chance, have you taken this from my rose bush?"

"Huh?" He acted, playing dumb. "What rose bush?"

"The rose bush just outside the house," he said.

"I, uhh..."

_Should I tell him, or not? I don't want to look stupid or anything._

"Well? Did you?"

"No. I didn't."

Arthur inspected it again. He was sure that rose was from his bush. "If you say so. Wait here, I'll just put this in a vase," he said, and left.

The moment his brother was out of sight, Peter grinned mischievously.

"What's with the smile?" Alfred asked, dubious.

"Why?" The child asked in a subtly teasing tone.

"You're smile is happy. But it's disturbing at the same time," he explained. "It's sort of... Awkward."

Peter finally let out a snigger. "The flower's from the bush, huh?"

Shoot.

"Th-That's not true. I didn't pick it from anywhere," he tried.

"Come on. It's obvious you took it from there."

"You don't have any proof."

Still smiling, the kid pointed out a red dot on the hem of Alfred's shirt, the spot where the latter had wiped his blood off. "I'm pretty sure that's proof enough," he snickered.

The dentist sighed exaspeatedly at himself. "Fine. Just don't tell him, okay?"

"I promise," he said. "Oh, and one other thing."

"What?"

"If you let me poke around and coach you, I'm sure I could help you get my brother to like you."

A shrewd smirk posted itself on Alfred's face. "You're a sneaky one, aren't you?"

"Alright. Sorry I took so long," Arthur said, walking from the living room.

"Okay, then. Let's go," Alfred said.

"Where are we going?" Peter asked.

"My house."

...

"Let me help you finish up here," he volunteered.

"Thanks," Iceland said, a couple of paces away from the Finn.

The two of them collected the numerous bottles of beer sprawled on the floor; they were scattered everywhere due to the previous events that had happened earlier that night.

In a corner not too far away from them, Iceland saw his brother in the kitchen, putting up with the Danish who had gotten himself surprisingly drunk. He didn't mind, though. He was quite used to seeing Denmark do such things to his brother. The Dane came to be in his current state because he desperately wanted to prove that he was strong at holding his alcohol. Something that nobody bothered to pay attention to.

"Too bad Eduard went home early..."

"Huh?" Iceland looked up. "Oh. Yeah." He was obviously tired. Chasing puffins was not the least bit easy.

"And I _so_ wanted to drink with him, too," Tino sighed.

Iceland let out a small chuckle.

"Why? What's so funny?" The Finn asked, clueless.

"Don't let Berwald hear you, he might get jealous," he teased. It was quite unusual to hear these things come from him; he seldomly joked, he was usually serious and skeptical.

"What're you saying?" He went pink at the remark.

"Nothing." A sly grin crept into his face.

"Whatever, Iceland. You're so drunk, you're thinking weird," he said, pouting with a slight blush. "Anyway, I don't think he's still here. I think he already went home a while ago."

"Too bad," Iceland continued.

They continued to clear up the devastating mess in the living room as best they could manage. Aside from picking up the litter from the floor, they busied themselves with talking about the most trivial things. Oh, yes. Alcohol does have its effects.

"Alright. I guess I'll be going now. Let's do this again next year," Tino said as he waved good bye.

"Sure. And thanks for helping me clean up."

"No problem."

The Finn took off, and Iceland was left alone in the house with a drunk Dane harrassing his brother. He listened. It was quiet in the kitchen. He peered cautiously; there was no one there.

"Oh well... They're probably in Norway's room," he sighed to himself.

Tino closed the door behind him. He had assumed that Berwald had already gone home and for that reason, he was startled when he saw the Swede sitting on the white, stone steps up the door. The Swede had his back to him, and seemed to be waiting for something.

"Umm... Berwald?" He lightly tapped the taller blonde on the shoulder. Berwald looked up at him. "I thought you went home already..."

"I w's wait'ng f'r you," he said.

_Really?_

He flushed a bit. "Oh... Were you?"

"'re you going h'me n'w?"

Tino nodded.

"Alr'ght. L't's go. I'll w'lk you h'me."

"Huh? You go home now, I can make do by myself," he said. "You seem tired... And my house's a little far, too..."

The Swede stood up, his person towering over the Finn's. "C'me on. L't's go," he said, as if he heard nothing.

"But..."

Berwald gave him a mild, but somewhat authoritative look that said, _I'm _not_ taking _no_ for an answer_.

"F-Fine," he looked away as the color in his face deepened. "Let's go."

The streets were lit with occassional lamp posts that lined the sidewalk. Houses that had their bright lights on earlier in the evening now had windows with sad, faint light inside, which drenched everything in a cold, lonely darkness. The two of them sauntered down the street to a house two blocks away from where they were. Not one of them dared to shatter the deafeaning silence between them.

The Finn enjoyed the stillness, somehow, he felt a feeling of contentment. It was not too apparent, but the Swede felt the same.

...

Arthur's thick brows were furrowed, his face manifested a mixture of confusion, disbelief, disgust, and irritation as he sat on the couch and watched the final minutes of the movie. Alfred only had indifference on his.

Earlier, he, Peter, and Alfred were seated around the table. The American prepared dinner: fish and chips. He did a little research, and thought that since Arthur was British, he would like a plate of classic fish and chips. The Briton seemed satisfied with his cooking, and because of that, he was quite pleased with himself.

_The chips were a bit soggy, though._

After eating, Alfred offered to watch a movie. He mentioned a number of titles, and Peter patched everything up to give the dentist the upper hand.

_"And I think I also rented a copy of _Saw_." _

_ "Ooh, ooh, I want to watch that one!" _

_ "No," Arthur said. _

_ "Huh? How come?" Peter asked, frowning disappointedly. _

_ "Because I don't think it's appropriate for a child like you to watch something as violent and as brutal as that," he said. "Everything in those movies are inhumane." _

_ "Awwe... Come on. Please, Arthur? Please? Just this once! It's not everyday that I watch those kind of things," he pestered. "Come on, a lot of kids at school watch those!" _

_ "No, Peter. That's final. And it would be past your bedtime when the movie finishes." He remained firm. "And they might give you nightmares." _

_ "That's unfair! You're so unfair! You never let me watch what I want!" He turned to Alfred, "Alfred, talk to him! Tell him to let me watch the movie, please! I really really want to watch it!" _

_ "Umm... Well..." He looked at Arthur, who had his arms crossed. Behind his glasses, his blue eyes searched for approval in the Briton's emerald ones. "Umm... Please? Just this once?" _

_ Peter planted himself beside Alfred, and made the same puppy dog face the American already had. The overly-notorious puppy dog face. Arthur stared at the both of them, his arms still in an unfaltering knot. _

_ He sighed, overcome by the persistence of the two blondes. _

_ "Fine. But just this once." _

_ "Alright! Thanks!" _

_ "Yay~! Thanks, Arthur!" Then, he ran off with the dentist to the living room, and popped in the disk into the DVD player. _

And that was the reason why he was currently perched on the couch in front of the television together with his brother and Alfred.

"Well, that was a disturbing movie," the Briton shared.

Alfred stood up, and retrieved the disk from the player. He heard Arthur chuckle softly. He looked behind him.

"Look at this kid," he began. "To think, he was the one who insisted on watching the movie. And then this happens. He falls asleep." He scooped up his brother, and stood up. "Alfred, thank you for tonight. We'll be going now," he said.

The American stood up, as well. "Okay. Let me drive you home." He truly wanted to ask them to stay and spend the night there, but unfortunately, he will have to save that for another time.

"Thank you."

No one dared to speak while they sat in the car. Arthur remained still, as his brother was sleeping peacefully in his arms. Alfred was at the wheel; he was silent the whole trip.

"Okay. Here we are," he said as he pulled over.

The Briton stepped out, and he walked with him to the door. Arthur turned to him and said, "thank you for the ride and the lovely dinner. Good night." He gave the dentist a nod, and turned to open their door.

"Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Oh, and Arthur?"

He looked at him. "Yes?"

"Good night," he said, and suddenly bent over and gave the Briton a quick, childish kiss on the cheek. Then, he ran back to his car, and without looking back, drove off.

Arthur was left there, dumbfounded. He found it extremely difficult to absorb what had just happened. As he was in a daze, he felt his cheek with the tip of his fingers.

Thirty seconds.

A minute.

Two minutes.

"Mmm..."

Okay. It was time to return to earth.

With a mental slap, Arthur remembered Peter's presence, and quickly looked down at him. He was worried that the child saw what had just happened.

"Good," he breathed, relieved. "Well," he took a final glimpse of the direction where Alfred had driven off to, "I suppose that concludes tonight's events."

...

_"I'll do the dishes." _

_ "What?" _

_ "I said, _I'll do the dishes_, Yao-hyung." _

_ The eldest sibling refused to believe his ears. "Are you sure, aru?" _

_ "Yeah." Yong Soo answered with a nod. "Why, what's wrong with that?" _

_ "Nothing, nothing," Yao caught. "It's just that... You never actually volunteered to do it. As in, ever. God must've answered my prayers." _

_ Kiku and Ivan plainly watched them, quietly finishing their dinner. _

_ "That's not true," the Korean defended. "I volunteered once." _

_ "Did you, aru?" Yao thought. "Oh, right. You did. But it was four years ago, when you learned how to do it." _

_ "Yeah, well... At least I did it on my own accord," he said, grinning stupidly. "So finish up and help me clear the table." _

_ "Whatever you say, Yong Soo. Whatever you say..." _

That was what happened an hour or so before.

Either because the youngest wanted to help Ivan get Yao off of work, or because he just randomly had the urge to lend a hand, the reason is unknown.

After dinner, Kiku headed straight to his room, and took a warm bath. On the other hand, Yao prepared a pair of pajamas for Ivan before the former went to his room and took his own bath. The Russian was careful to remind Yao to use warm water. And with the help of some unseen force, Yong Soo actually did what he said he would do.

Ivan stepped out of the bathroom, a towel on his head. He sat on his bed, and pondered for a while. For the longest time, he had not wished anything good for his sisters. Normally, he would just ask that either of them be struck by lightning, or get hit by something inhumanely heavy that there would be no slightest shred of survival. Or, mostly, he would just wish to strike either of them with his pipe, with a couple of times he let slip.

But...

Time must have melted all those years of vexation.

_I wonder how my sisters are doing... I hope Ukraine is hale, and happy. I wonder, does she still cry as much as before? I hope she is contented and productive with her farmwork. She had always dreamed of growing her own crops. _He sighed._ And as much as I loathe Natalia, I hope she... I still hope that she... _He thought. _I hope she is well. _

Memories of his sisters slipped casually into his mind. He recalled the day Ukraine gave him his scarf. He grinned. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see his pink scarf sprawled across his pillow. It wasn't there. He remembered he left it in Yao's room that morning. He returned to his pondering.

_ I wonder how much longer this would last? I have my body again, and I finally regained all my senses. What is more... _A smile settled itself on his cherubic face._ I believe I am blessed. I am truly blessed. I have found immaculate contentment in Yao's company. Da. I believe I have. To the being they call 'God,' I ask, allow me to remain as I am now. I wish to be with him longer. As long as time may permit. _

"Ivan...?" A familiar, but somewhat hoarse voice called softly.

The Russian's heart jolted. He turned his head to testify his guess, and there, in the doorway, he saw Yao, dressed in his night clothes, standing timidly, and holding a pink scarf that draped and dangled down his arms.

"Da?" He asked with equal softness.

"Umm... Right. I-I just wanted to give this back to you, aru," he said, stepping into the room, and advancing to him. "I forgot to give it back this morning. Here," he held it up to him.

"Da. Thank you," he answered as he carefully took it from him.

Upon regainig custody of his scarf from the Chinese's hands, their eyes met. Like what had always happened, neither wanted to let go of the other's gaze, and a small blush crept up not only on Yao's face, but on Ivan's cheeks, as well. Brown eyes were the first to tear away.

"Umm... Anyway, I wanted to thank you again for what you did last night, aru," Yao said, averting his face as it went slightly redder.

"It is my pleasure," Ivan politely answered.

"Uhh... Right. Well, good night, then." He looked at the Russian for the final time before he nodded, and turned to leave. Just as he was about to go, he felt the familiar sensation of something clasping his wrist. He whipped, and asked, "is there something wrong?"

Purple eyes again. Expressionate, purple eyes that refused to let him go, glimmering purple eyes that were strongly yearning. Longing, purple eyes that penetrated him deeply like no other thing, or being could ever possibly do to him.

He raised a finger, and pointed to his cheek.

"A kiss."

"H-Huh..?"

"A good night kiss," he repeated. "You must give me a good night kiss."

"But, I..." Yao lightly shook his head. He let out a breath. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter." He bent over Ivan, and his lips touched the other's cheek with a small chirping sound. He smiled serenely. "Good night."

"Da. Good night," he said, looking up at him as his heart filled with a certain delight.

And lo, the gentle caress of the other's lips on his cheek, and the light touch of the other's cheek against his lips had secured in each, a feeling of repose, and serenity.

...

Green eyes heavily directed themselves up the dark, navy sky.

He blinked at the numerous stars that night, all the while attempting to spot constellations he knew. Unfortunately, the heavens were all too vast, and the stars were very pellucid and impossible to count, let alone identify any of them.

"I think... That's Sirius," he whispered to himself, straightening a finger to point at a bright star. "Or is it, like, that one?" His lips tilted downward at his confusion.

All his attention was concentrated on aiming to name a star correctly that he had not noticed a small, torn, or more like burnt, piece of paper flutter in front of him... Until it pasted itself on his forehead.

"Like, hey!" He exclaimed. "What the..." He took the disturbance, and examined it. He recognized the paper, the scent, and the format. "But I, like, already quit, didn't I?" Although he sounded complaining, he still went through the contents of the paper. He frowned, disappointed. "But they're, like, happy now... I don't want to be a party pooper and ruin everything for them..."

He quickly stuffed the piece of paper into his pocket the moment he heard footsteps come his way. He looked to see who it was.

"Feliks?" He stepped out the balcony, and joined him.

"Oh. Toris... It's only you." He eased his stance. "What's up?"

Brows slightly furrowed. "Why are you still up?"

"Like, why are _you_ still up? I, like, thought you were already asleep..."

The Lithuanian sighed. "I was. I woke up. Eduard was freaking out, yelling 'Raivis.' He was practically all over the place. With what he was screaming, I think Raivis told him about his first kiss."

"Raivis?" The Polish blurted out, honestly surprised. "Isn't he a little too young for his first kiss?"

"That's why Eduard was making such a huge fuss about it."

"Oh," Feliks plainly said.

"So why're you still up? I expected to see you sprawled across my bed, and forcing youself to sleep beside me, but you weren't there," Toris innocently explained. "Is something bothering you?"

"Well, like, not exactly. I just thought I'd get some air, and then this fell from nowhere." He slowly took out the piece of paper from his pocket, and showed it to him.

"Huh? I thought you were already done with this?"

"Like, I thought so, too. But I guess I don't, like, have any other choice. I'll get to this tomorrow, I think."

"Hmm... Okay. Who's it for, anyway?"

"Like, do you remember the tall, freaky Russian dude we met at the hospital?"

"Oh. Him? Well, that's too bad... He seemed happy about the way things are with him, though."

"I, like, know. This is the part I hated about my last job." Feliks looked up at the sky again, and sighed.

Toris took his hand. The blonde faced him. He saw a consoling smile on the Lithuanian's face.

"It's fine."

"I, like, hope it would be."

.

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**A/N:** Okay,I can explain. A whole lot of stuff happened the last few weeks, so I didn't have the time to write this. Crap, senior year's busy... |^ Honestly. The past three weeks felt like it took away two months of my freaking life. Military training, school paper, interschool competitions, fussy [asshole] teachers, events... It's tiring. Seriously. I get home at six everyday because of the military training. To think I'm already at school at six in the morning. Pakshett. TTwTT

Anyway, about the wrist-licking thing that Alfred did, my dentist told me that the tounge is like a carpet, it harbors all the smells in your mouth. So, if you want to know how your breath smells like, lick your wrist, and take a sniff. :D

And also, I wanted to ask how song-fics are written... Could anyone tell me please? *stare*

So... Yeah. I'll shut up now, and hopefully, I could update soon. TT3TT

21 Novemebr 2010

2252H


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N:** Right. I can and will explain. Afterwards. Anyway, [warning]: drama and fluff stuff up ahead, so if you don't like drama, then skip the second __Ho~hum__, and just read the last part.

*stares*

O_O

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Chapter 20

He tightened his grip around his captive before laughing menacingly. His breaths were turbulently brushing against his unnaturally soft victim. With an even tighter hold on his captive, he rolled on his side until-

_Blag_

"Ouch..." He breathed as he opened his eyes. He pressed his hand against his slightly throbbing head. "What..?" He looked around. "Man, I fell off the bed again." The pillow he had been clinging onto was sprawled beside him. If it were ever alive, it would have been either cursing him to death, or terrified of him; the pillow would have felt violated and viciously molested.

He labored a sigh as he pulled himself to his feet. He looked outside, and saw how bright it was.

"Wow. What a beautiful Sunday morning," he told himself. "Perfect for lying on the couch and doing nothing all day long." He smiled to himself contentedly, then got dressed for the day. "Hmm... I wonder what's for breakfast..." He trod down the hall until he reached the kitchen. He found his eldest brother working the stove, while Ivan was sitting at the table, skimming through the Sunday paper.

"Morning," he greeted.

"Good morning," the Russian returned.

"Sit down for breakfast, Yong Soo. We're going to be busy today, aru," Yao said, not bothering to look away from his cooking.

"Huh?" The Korean took a seat in front of Ivan, who was smiling adorably. "What do you mean?"

"We're going to do chores today."

"Huh?" His tone was greatly disagreeing. "But _why_?" He asked, as if it were the worst thing any living creature could possibly do.

"_Because_, aru," he started, "no one's going to do it except us." When he felt Yong Soo about to retort, he said, "don't bother whining. You'd still have to do them, anyway."

"Fine." He made a duck face. "What am _I_ supposed to do, then?"

"You're going to help me with the laundry," he said, putting everything in the pan on a white, ceramic plate. "But before that, we'll have to clean up the living room first. It's a mess, aru."

"And Kiku-hyung?"

"He's going to wash the car and do some garden work, aru."

"And Ivan?"

Yao paused and thought.

"Oh, come _on_. Don't tell me _he_'s not going to do anything..."

He still hasn't gotten over treating Ivan as a guest. "Well, as a matter of fact-"

"I shall be giving a hand wherever and whenever I can," the Russian answered.

"Ivan, it's fine. You don't have to do anything, aru..."

"Hey, that's not fair, Yao-hyung. You're being biased," Yong Soo pointed.

"Da. He is right. I do not believe it is fair for me to do nothing whilst all of you are working," he reasoned. "Just let me be, da? I do not think that there is a task that I would find difficult." He smiled, trying to convince him.

"If you say so, then."

"Yeah. That's right," the youngest voiced out.

Yao walked over and placed breakfast on the table. "Eat up, aru. I'm just going to get Kiku."

"So you're going to help, right?" Yong Soo said when he was left alone with the Russian.

"Da. As I have said." He smiled.

All morning, the three siblings, along with Ivan, did their chores like all good children do. Unbelievably, Yong Soo actually managed to help Yao with tidying up the living room without making the place even messier. With his 'Korean spirit,' as he put, Yong Soo sorted out the stuff that could be recycled, left alone, or should just get thrown out. Meanwhile, Yao was running the vaccum around the place, with Ivan lifting and moving stuff so the former could get through. As he always did, the youngest teased them, saying that they look perfect together, just like husband and wife. Ivan amusedly smiled at the remark, but Yao gave his brother a sharp, piercing glare. Kiku, on the other hand, did work outside the house; he gave the garden a little trim, and he painted the fence afterwards. Noon chimed, and everybody took a short break. As by the schedule, the eldest made lunch. The four of them gathered around the table, and ate happily. Kiku grinned with a concealed hint of contentment; that was how they spent their Sundays.

_Ho~hum_

"Hey, Arthur?" He called as he stood in the doorway.

The older blonde sat on his bed; he was busy folding his clothes and storing them neatly in his drawer. "Yes?"

The child walked up to him and asked, "do you think I could use your laptop?"

"_May I use your laptop_," he corrected. "Seriously, you're grammar's becoming as horrid as an American's. Remember your grammar rules, Peter."

"Right. Sorry. Umm, _may I use your laptop_, then?" He asked again.

"Alright, but what do you need it for?"

"Well, I wanted to play a game online. My friends at school are all playing it, so I thought I'd try it out," he said, not looking at the Briton.

"Hmm..." He slid his drawer shut and stood up. "Alright, then. Here, let me just hook it up."

"Thank you!" The child cheerfully said.

"But remember to be careful of the sites you go to. And don't download anything from untrustworthy sites," he reminded. "And don't look at things you aren't supposed to."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Peter said, giving his brother a playful salute.

...

Obsidian hair swayed feebly in the wind as she walked up the front porch. She gripped the basket of fruit, and prepared herself with a smile as she stretched a hand to knock on the door. But before her fingers made contact, the skillfully crafted oak door opened before her. Wide, bright green eyes gazed at bewilderment. The woman who opened the door held a sweet-smelling pie, fresh from the oven.

"Hi, neighbor!" She said happily, waving a hand and saving them both from an awkward moment. "I brought you mangoes." She held up the basket.

"You must be from across the street, right?" The woman with the pie began.

"Yes. And you're the newly-weds who just moved in, right?"

"Why, yes. Yes, we are." She smiled broadly. "I was just about to bring you this," she said, referring to the baked good. "Why don't you come in?" She stepped aside, and beckoned her to do the same.

"Oh. Thanks," she replied, grinning as well.

She led the visitor to the kitchen, and gestured that she take a seat. She did. The owner of the house settled the pie on the table.

"Right. Well, anyway, these are for you," the visitor said, offerring the basket of fragrant mangoes. "They're from home. I brought some when I got back Friday night."

"Oh. Thanks." She gratefully took the fruit. "Where are you from?"

"The Philippines," she answered proudly. "Oh, right. By the way," she held out her hand for a conventional hand shake, "I'm Clara Dela Cruz. Pleased to meet you...?"

"I'm Elizaveta Héderváry," she finished, clasping Clara's hand and shaking it vigorously. "Glad to have met you. I'm from Hungary, and my husband's Austrian."

"Oh. Cool," she said, nodding.

Elizaveta chuckled a bit. "Anyway, would you like a cookie?" She pushed a plate of chocolate chip cookies toward her. "I just made them."

"You like to bake, don't you?"

"Oh, is it too obvious?" The Hungarian grinned.

"Well, considering your apron, the pie, and the cookies, yes. Anyone can tell, really," Clara answered, beaming. She reached for a cookie and took a bite. "Wow. These're good."

"Really?" Elizaveta asked dotingly, knowing her answer would be a 'yes.'

"Yeah. As in. I mean, it's a hell lot better than the commercial brand," she said honestly, munching away, and taking another one.

"I'm glad you like them. Eat as many as you like. My husband doesn't like sweets too much, so the things I make usually end up being given away to neighbors."

"Awwe... Well then, just give them to me next time," Clara said in a joking tone. "I'll be more than happy to accept them."

"Why, sure!" She gave her a glass of milk.

"Trust me, I'll be _so_ looking forward to that," she laughed.

"I won't disappoint you," Elizaveta tittered. "Oh, right. I just remembered something. Say, you're friends with the Asians from next door, right?"

"Yeah. Why d'you ask?"

"There's four of them living there, right?"

"Ye-wait, no. There's just three of them: Yao, Kiku and Yong Soo." Clara's curiosity grew rapidly. "Why, did you see another person there?"

"Well," she began in a slightly low voice, "I went over there a few days ago to give them one of my pies, and the eldest answered the door."

"Oh. So, what's wrong with that? Sounds pretty normal to me."

"Listen to this: I was about to leave when I saw someone behind him. In the living room, standing near the couch, there was a tall guy."

"And? What's so wrong with a tall guy standing in the living room near the couch?"

"He was _naked_."

Clara gasped with a mouth half-full of cookie. She swallowed hard. "What? H-How? W-Why?" She spluttered. Her face grew red, her wild imagination started running again. She could think of a hundred things she could connect to that scene. "W-Was he _bare_ naked, as in, head to foot?"

"I wished he was, but no. He just had his top off. Oh, god, I didn't know Yao was into _that_ kind of thing," Elizaveta commented. "I was surprised, really."

"What else did you see? What else did you see?" The Filipino asked eagerly.

"Well, I thought I just disturbed something, so I took off. But before I did, I told him that it was fine, and that he shouldn't make excuses. Oh, and I also told him to have fun."

The brunette squeaked merrily. "_Fun?_" She repeated. "Is there anything else? You _have_ to tell me more."

"Hmm..." She thought. "A few days after that, I went by again to give them a plate of cookies because I sort of got a little carried away with baking again. Anyway, Yao was at work, but the tall guy went to the door. Then, I went straight and asked him if he was Yao's boyfriend." Clara mouthed an 'oh my gosh,' and bit her lip. "It took him a minute to answer, but in the end, he went all defensive and said that they weren't in a relationship, but..." She smiled evilly. "I highly doubt it."

"Wow... I never would have known..." The pediatrician momentarily fell into a daze.

"So, there."

She snapped out of her daze, and blistered with questions, "what was the guy's name? What did he look like? Do you think that they...?" Her cheeks had flushed more.

"Oh, sorry, but I forgot to ask him his name. But I could remember that he had purple eyes and light, sort of silvery hair. He was sort of hot, really." As if she read Clara's mind, she said, "although, I don't think that they already..." She pursed her lips, "mmph."

"Awwe... And here I thought I would get some more of _that_..." She sighed.

Seeing Clara's enthusiasm and excitement for _that_ thing, Elizaveta smirked. "Say, don't tell me you like _that_ kind of thing, too. Do you?"

"What do you mean _that_?" She feigned her innocence to make sure they were on the same page.

"You know, _that_. Let's see, how do I put this... Bromance. Boys' love. Guy to guy love. Gayness. Yaoi."

The doctor averted her face; her cheeks had burned a deeper shade of red, which complemented her skin nicely. "Well, you see... _That_ thing... You know, I," she glanced at the Hungarian, her green eyes unfaltering. "You know... I don't know why, but to be honest with you, I do. I really do," she confessed. "In fact, it's my secret fetish."

Elizaveta was overjoyed to have found someone who likes _that_ like she does. She let out a squeal. "Let's be friends, shall we, Clara? Let's be good friends," she said, clutching the pediatrician's hands in each of hers. She had that cunning tone in her voice that would easily give goosebumps to a not-so-straight man.

Clara changed her stance since she knew now that the Hungarian could relate. "Why, of course, Elizaveta," she answered with equal slyness.

And lo, the little chat and the handshake marked the start of a beautiful friendship.

...

"That dress is, like, _so_ hideous," he mumbled to himself as he watched the women on television rush fiercely through the catwalk.

"What time do you plan on going?" He asked as he walked into the living room.

"Huh?" The blonde glanced over the couch. "Oh. Liet. Right. That. I, like, planned on going a little after six," he said, getting back to staring at the screen.

"And just when you stopped calling me Liet, you do it again." He sighed. "Anyway, why so late? Why not now?"

"Because the declaration's not until evening." Feliks flipped through a couple of channels. "Geez... I'm, like, not in charge of him anymore. I shouldn't, like, be the one to tell him this. This is why I hated my old job," he uttered, more to himself than to Toris. "Seriously, what's the point of quitting my old job if I still, like, have to do this?"

"Well," the Lithuanian began as he sat next to him, "I guess it's because you were the one who was in charge-"

"_Was_. Like, big emphasis."

Toris thought. "If I remember right, your boss made you sign a contract, right?"

"Yeah. Like, what about it?"

"I'm pretty sure you didn't read that. Now, did you?"

The Polish couldn't look straight at him, so he pretended to scan for channels, even if he had already passed his favorite channel four times.

"Right. I thought so. Well, _that_'s ironic. Considering your job had a lot of contracts just waiting to get signed," he said, sounding like an adult scolding a child. "I presumed that you abided with the precautions."

Feliks loudly blew a breath and pouted childishly.

"You shouldn't complain about anything since you signed the agreement."

_Ho~hum_

"Right. Just hang these up and we're through, aru," Yao said, carrying a third bucket, full of nothing but their clothes. Ivan was at his tail, carrying a fourth one. They put the clothes down near the first two buckets.

"Okay, Yao-hyung, watch me!" The youngest said, still energetic. "I, Im Yong Soo, shall conquer these laundry, and I shall be the king of all clothes! Today, our back yard, tomorrow, the world!" He took a shirt and hung it, before laughing in a maniacal manner.

"I think the fabric conditioner got to him, Yao-nii," Kiku sighed as he watched the Korean get his dose of fun.

"I think it has, aru." Yao heard his phone's alarm sounding off inside the house. "Wait here, I'm just going to do something."

"Okay." And the middle sibling joined Yong Soo and helped him hang up the laundry.

Yao went into the house; he was not aware that Ivan had followed him. He thought of birthdays, and other schedules or appointments he had possibly forgotten, but he failed to think of any. Curious, he snatched his phone from the table, and checked why the calendar's alarm went off. When he saw what it was, his eyes widened at shock. He couldn't breathe. His conscience screamed at him. His heart stopped; it dropped and shattered. He fell to his knees.

"W-What... H-How... Of all things... _This_?" He muttered, breathless. He glanced at his phone's screen again. His hands went cold at the words he just read. "_Now_?"

He remembered now. He remembered why he decided not to mark that day in any of the calendars in the house and instead, just mark it on his phone's calendar; it was so his brothers would not see it. He remembered why he tried so hard to forget about that day. He remembered why he constantly shoved that thought out of his head.

... It was too painful.

Although he always pretended that nothing ever happened, or that nothing was ever wrong, he was perfectly aware that he still had to face it when that day came. He simply wanted a temporary peace.

"I... I'm... How naïve of me to think that way-wait, no. I was _stupid_ to ever have thought that way..." He hit his numbing hand against the floor. It ached. Just like his heart did. He lay on the floor, thinking.

He felt heat across his face. He never wanted to shed a sinlge tear, yet, before he thought of that, there were already some that had started to build up at the corner of his eyes, threatening to fall any moment. Before they did, he quickly ran his hand down his face, wiping them away. Biting his lip to stop himself from sobbing, he stood up, slammed his phone down his bed, and stormed out of his room in search of tributes. Ivan continued to follow him, consistently keeping himself hidden.

A year ago, before Yao decided to hide his thoughts and memories of that day away from his consciousness, he had already prepared for when that day came. He headed to his mother's room, and took out a box of incense and a set of scented candles from a cabinet. He went straight in front of his mother's shrine. The three of them made it, but he never once visited it, unlike his brothers did. There, beside his mother's picture, he lit a couple of candles, and a few incense.

He stood in front of her shrine and bowed his head.

All the while, he had been restraining himself from succumbing to his tears, but as he stood there, praying to his mother's soul, he, for a moment, let go of his foolish pride, and let everything come down. He completely indulged to the thing he never wanted to let anyone, especially his brothers, see him do-_cry_.

"I'm sorry I forced myself to forget about this, aru," he mumbled almost inaudibly. "I'm sorry for a lot of things." He sobbed in between heavy breaths. He felt his heart aching with longing. Everything he kept locked away for the past year burst, and flowed straight into his prayer. With his voice breaking, he said, "_mama_, I miss you."

Ivan was watching all this. Unlike Yao's brothers, Ivan was used to seeing this side of him, as he was once his panda. He knew that Yao would never dare to show this side of him to his brothers. Yao had always feared the moment his brothers see him that way. He agreed with himself that he would remain a strong, unwavering figure for them; he felt that it was his responsibility to do so.

The Russian was about to make his move when Yong Soo and Kiku came.

"Yao-hyung?"

"Yao-nii? Are you alright?"

The eldest glanced up, his face wet with tears.

"Yao-hyung!" The youngest ran to him and wrapped him in his arms. "Yao-hyung, how come you're alone? And you're crying, too..."

Although he kept it to himself, Kiku's heart melted at the sight of him. Since he always analizes the atmosphere, he already knew, for a long time, what Yao was attempting to do as the eldest. He went up to him.

"I didn't want to the two of you to see me like this," the Chinese said in a hoarse voice. "I didn't want you to see me looking broken and pathetic, aru..."

"Don't be stupid, Yao-nii," Kiku scolded. He feigned anger. "This isn't pathetic. It's just your pride."

Yao decided not to answer that.

The middle sibling sighed, and shifted his demeanor to a more gentle one, but still pretending to be angry, "you didn't tell us it was _ok__ā__-san_'s death anniversary."

Yong Soo had let go of his brother, and patted his back.

"I was being childish. _Immature_. I acted purely on impulse. I let my emotions get the best of me." He somewhat got a grip of himself; he was calmer now. "I was selfish. I was _very_ selfish. I didn't even ask you two on your say in this. I never even considered what you felt about this. I just thought of myself," he explained. "I'm sorry. I'm very sorry, aru."

Kiku sighed again. He couldn't stand pretending to be angry anymore. Just as Yong Soo did, he wrapped his brother in his arms in hopes of comforting him even in the slightest. "You kept yourself from us," he said. "You didn't even give us the chance to talk to you about it."

"I know. It was selfish of me to have done that," he said, his face bobbing out from the Japanese's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"But I understand why you did that, Yao-nii."

"Really?" Yao managed a weak chuckle. "I'm glad you did."

"Hey, I want some of that, too!" The youngest said, cuddling in. When he found a spot, he said, "I guess this is the warm and fuzzy feeling people in the movies talked about."

"Probably it is," Kiku said.

From where he was, Ivan smiled at how happy the three were. He felt a little hint of envy. He wished that he and his sisters were like that, too. If it weren't for Natalia, who destroyed the idea, he thought.

"Alright, then. Why don't you light some incense for her?" Yao offered. "I already lit one, aru."

"Sure," his younger brothers said in duet.

Each of them took a stick from the box, lit them, placed them on the stand, and prayed. Yao resumed with his own. When they were done telling their mother what they wanted to tell her, Yong Soo invited his brothers to the living room. Kiku prepared to leave, but Yao said he wanted to stay just a little while longer.

"I'll catch up in a bit, aru."

"Let me take care of dinner, then," Kiku said.

"Thanks, aru," Yao replied with a thankful smile.

"Hurry up, okay, Yao-hyung?"

"Sure, Yong Soo."

When he was finally left alone, he looked outside. The sky was a pinkish orange, and half the sun was already at the horizon. He switched on the lights before it entirely went dark. Then, he assumed his position in front of his mother's shrine again. He folded his arms. Just when he thought his resolve was whole again, it shattered into pieces once more. He felt helpless, he couldn't help but cry his heart out. _Thank god they're not here_, Yao thought to himself. Suddenly, he felt a gentle warmth embrace him.

"Those were the tears that you have held ever since the day she died, da? Quite a long time, if I were asked," Ivan said, his arms tight around the mourning Chinese.

"I guess so, aru," Yao answered, muffled because of the Russian's arm.

"Kiku is correct."

"Huh? About what?"

"Most probably, it was simply your pride that had kept you constantly shutting yourself," he said, as if pointing out the most obvious thing in the world.

"Probably." He liked that warmth. It was pleasantly welcoming. He felt Ivan chuckle.

"I hope you truly understand that." He smiled and took a deep breath. "Yao, ever since your mother died, you have taken responsibility of your brothers. Along with that, you have always _put up a front_, as you say it. You were quite the altruist."

"I had to, aru."

"You have perpetually kept your problems, your sorrow and your grief to yourself. In the end, you weep in solitude, always having to justify your tears with prolonged and extensive explanations."

"Well," he tried to defend himself, "I don't want to tell them; I don't want them to worry or anything." He thought back to the times he kept himself from his brothers, "then, everything just comes down, and it suddenly gets hard to breathe, and I can't help myself but-"

"-cry. Da, I am aware. I am _well_ aware. Having been your panda, I feel quite honored to be the only being in this world you confide to. Albeit I am no longer in the form of your stuffed animal, I merely wish that you continue to confide to me."

"Ivan?"

"Da?"

"The things you said about being my panda and all, aru..." His stare was blank, but his mind was in full control. "I... I believe you. Everything you say, I believe you."

What a pleasant surprise. He didn't expect that.

"Yao, you can be quite spontaneous at times..."

"And, do you remember your promise-err, _vow_? You told me that nothing will happen to me-"

"-as long as I am beside you. Da. Of course I remember that."

"Do you think... Do you think you could keep that for me, aru?" He felt blood rushing to his face.

Ivan smiled. "Yao, you have no need of asking. I intended to keep that vow the moment I had made it."

"Right. Th-Thanks, aru." He held the Russian's hands and felt their warmth contrasting with the coldness of his own. The Russian, in turn, tightened his embrace.

_Ho~hum_

When Yao finally firmed himself up again, he settled himself next to Yong Soo, who was watching something on the television. He first offered to help Kiku in the kitchen, but the latter refused, insisting that he should rest. Meanwhile, Ivan stepped out to the front porch to get some air.

He was leaning on the railing with a grin on his face and his purple eyes up to the stars when a familiar blonde walked up to him.

"Like, hello there, Ivan," he greeted, waving a hand.

He looked over his shoulder and found the Polish discreetly dressed.

"Good evening, Feliks. What brings you here?"

"Yeah. Like, about that. You see, now that Yao, yes, I, like, know his name, officially declared that he believes you, now comes the final condition in the contract." His stance became more serious. "Like, it's the last. And trust me, I don't like telling you this."

"And what might that be?" Ivan asked, his curiosity growing.

"Right. For you to, like, stay the way you are right now, as in, your physical body and all, and since you spent five thousand days as a stuffed panda, Yao must," Feliks took in a deep breath, "give up half the number of those days. As in, like, two thousand five hundred of them."

The grin on Ivan's face disappeared.

"_Give up_?"

"Like, yeah."

"Surely you say that in jest," he said with a shaky, disbelieving grin. He didn't want to believe what he just heard.

"I'm sorry, but it isn't."

"Two thousand five hundred... That would amount to roughly seven years of his life..." Ivan uttered to himself. His heart dropped. "Seven years..."

"Afraid so."

"W-Wait, surely there must be something else that could be done? Surely I can give up seven years of my own life instead of his? In fact, I do not care anymore. I will gladly give up five, seven, thirteen years of my life, how much it takes."

"Ivan, that's, like, very touching of you, but I'm really sorry. Those were, like, orders. You know, I, like, told you that I already quit my job, right? This is the main reason why I did. But since I was, like, in charge of you, my boss told me that I should, like, finish all the contracts I had people sign."

He wasn't paying much attention anymore. He was more concerned about what he should do.

"Is that... Is that final?" He asked, hoping for a 'no,' but expecting a 'yes.'

The blonde nodded. "I'm, like, really sorry, Ivan. Anyway, the time limit's three days, though. So you could, like, think about it. I'll be back on Wednesday for your answer. Bye." Feliks didn't expect any responses. With a curt nod, he took off and left the Russian in a terribly problematic state.

The door opened, and he found him there. "Ivan? There you are. Come on, it's time for dinner," Yao said with a sweet smile on his lips.

.

..

...

**A/N:** Happy New Year, everybody~ :D To all the Hetalia Maniacs-Hetaliacs, if you let me coin the term-I hope we all stay addicted to Hetalia. :D

Don't complain. If you don't want to read this, then don't. :^

I didn't update for more than a month. I have a lot to explain. *sigh* Let's see... For three weeks, my life was a mess. I came home late and tired every single day because of the military training; I, along with everybody else at school, was bombarded with a ton of projects; I had to rush the articles our asshole of an editor (who happens to be my bestfriend) dumped on me; we had the third quarterly exams; and to top it all off, my laptop's charger broke, which meant that I was heartbroken for a month since we had to order the fucking charger all the way from Japan. *sigh* But anyway, I checked the traffic. And I'm happy that there're still people who read this. And to those who sent me messages, thanks a million. :)

Oh, I'd like to mention this: I have absolutely no idea why I always associate Elizaveta with baking. O_O

By the way, to the people who requested and reminded me _over and over_ to make one, the Christmas special has been uploaded, although it's a bit late to inform you all. :^

Also, since this is pretty long, I'd share something. Three hours before midnight, my parents and I set up dinner-slash-_Media Noche_ in the veranda. My parents each had a liter and a half of beer, and I had a few bottles of vodka. Two hours to midnight, I didn't dare set foot outside. I still wanted to keep every part of my body in tact for 2011. Everybody was lighting fireworks like crazy. It was so noisy that I couldn't even hear my own conscience, but it was a nice sight. When you look up at the sky, it seems as though they were painting a vividly colored picture on a black canvass. :) I love New Years in the Philippines. :) How was yours? :D

Date/Time check: January 1, 2011. 1:07 AM

**アイイ****-****サン****アェリエル**


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N:** Hello there. :D

First of all, I am terribly, terribly, terribly sorry for the three-month delay. God knows how busy I was. _**IF**_ you don't have anything better to do and you're bored enough out of your skull, then, you could read the note afterward, da? :D

_Not everything you want to believe in is necessarily true. _

...

..

.

* * *

Chapter 21

In an instant, he wore a smile, and said, "da. I shall be with you shortly."

"Hurry up, okay?" The Chinese said as he made his way back.

Ivan stood frozen, having no idea what to do. He still refused to believe the final terms of the contract. He shook his head. "I shall deal with it later." He stepped inside again and headed to the dinner table.

He seated himself in front of Yao, beside Yong Soo. Like they usually do, the three occupied themselves with talking about the tiring day and everything else they could think of, minus the short drama earlier that evening. So as not to rouse any doubt, Ivan grinned from time to time, managing a couple of fake laughs here and there; he didn't want to act or sound suspicious. He discreetly went on with how things should be, as if nothing psychologically and emotionally scarring happened. After dinner, the youngest did the dishes, Kiku headed off to his room, Yao took out some clothes for Ivan, and the latter trod off for a bath.

Warm water ran down his hair. Although he had an empty, vacant expression, his mind was going mad. He had never encountered a turn in his life that had actually inflicted _this_ much stress to him. He couldn't keep himself from thinking so much. His thoughts solely revolved around the Chinese who was one of the two main subjects of the damned contract.

He wanted to spend every waking hour with him. Seven years is a lot to lose. A million things could happen in a day, how much more in seven years? It would be such a waste to surrender such a length of time, he thought.

He hung his towel behind the bathroom door, and stepped out. He still had that blank look on his face until he noticed that there was someone sitting on his bed, patting the sheets neat. It was good that he was able to straighten himself before looking up. It was _him_. He was surprised, but he kept a straight face and just stared at him, nearly emotionless. Yao sat on his bed; he appeared as though he was waiting for something. The Russian, most probably. He suppressed a smile when he saw Ivan walking toward him. He stood his ground.

"Umm... Listen, Ivan, aru..."

He sat down. "Da?"

"Well, you see, umm, later today... At my mom's shrine..." He paused, thinking of what the next words were supposed to be. He already rehearsed them over and over. Sadly, he couldn't remember. "N-Nevermind, aru. What I meant to say is," he firmed up his stance, "thank you." He turned a light pink. "Not just about today but... For a lot of things, aru." He turned his face away. "Thanks, aru. For everything."

"Yao..." Ivan looked at him, his eyes glistening at the moonlight pouring in from the window.

"Right. I guess... I guess that's about it, aru. Thanks again and good night." He took a deep breath and, not even waiting for the other to ask, leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Without another word and without looking back, he left.

Unconsciously, Ivan ran a hand down the spot where Yao's lips touched his cheek, caressing it gently as he remembered the sensation of the Chinese's kiss. He never wanted to stop receiving those sweet good night kisses. _Ever_.

"Yao..." He breathed heavily. He frowned, and his purple, dejected eyes shone with dampness. "I would never want you to lose that much time... You have your life ahead of you..."

With a nearly painful bite to his lip, he dropped himself hard on the bed, flat on his back, his face insanely blank because of his perplexity and indicisiveness. He tossed and turned as he tried to fall asleep and free his mind of the troublesome matter, even just for a moment... Until his mind finally grew unbearably tired and allowed him to be shipped off to dreamland.

Yao, as a house ritual, went to Kiku's room to check on him. The Japanese was reading a book. He looked up from a page and asked his brother to sit beside him.

"Is something wrong, aru?"

"_Betsu ni_." He shut his book.

The eldest pouted. "Kiku," he began complaining, "what did we talk about speaking in a language not familiar to everybody in the house, aru?"

He grinned. "At least you seem to be yourself again, Yao-nii."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Don't tell me you forgot about the little drama skit earlier," he teased. The Chinese opened his mouth to retort but his brother said, "I just hope you talk to us more often."

"Don't I do that, aru?"

"You're a psychologist. You should know that it's healthier that way. Talking about _serious things_ and opening up, I mean."

Yao let out a short chuckle. "Serious things?"

"Yes. About how you feel."

"_How I feel?_" He repeated. "But I do that all the time, don't I?"

"Well, not deep enough. You only tell us the shallow parts, Yao-nii."

He paused for a second.

"Come on. You can't keep bottling up everything forever."

_You don't understand, Kiku_, he wanted to tell him.

It simply wasn't comfortable. It was difficult. Yao was never used to talking to other people about how he felt. Especially his brothers. He had always kept it to himself. All the emotions that should normally be manifested and voiced out were kept locked away in a deep, dark place inside him. The only times when he opened up was when he talked to his stuffed panda. Since he was a kid, he trained himself to hold on to the thought that he should not show anyone his weaknesses. But he had to tell someone, and since his mother was not always beside him, he thought of his panda. His panda would never spill his secrets, let alone laugh at him-because he knew that it was an inanimate object. And because he gave himself a reason, he had always settled with being contented with talking to the panda his mother gave him. At least... That was how he thought until his panda disappeared and popped up into a Russian named Ivan.

"To be honest, it isn't that hard."

"Kiku, you see, it's difficult-"

"Don't you trust us enough?"

"What?" He spluttered. "Of course I do."

"Then why don't you tell us what you feel? What you've been going through all this time?"

Yao averted his face. He felt shame slowly gnawing on him again. "I... You know, it's-"

"You know, Yong Soo's been talking to me about this..."

"About what, aru?"

"He told me you never talk about _real_ things. All you bring up are the shallow, everyday things. He says he doesn't think he knows you enough," he said, his tone full of indignation. "Take what happened earlier for example. For a year, you never bothered to talk to us about _ok__ā__-san_. And then _that_ happens." He heaved a heavy breath. "_Communication is the key to a healthy relationship_. I read that from a book. And you know what? I think it's true. I get it why you don't talk to us about the sensitive, personal things, but..."

"Fine." Yao forced a smile. "I get your point already, aru." Kiku looked up at him with a skeptical look. The eldest added, "I suppose I could promise you that I could do my best to open the communication lines."

"I hope you do that, Yao-nii."

"I will. I'll do my best." He held out his pinky and the Japanese took it in his own.

"Make sure you do."

Yao took his younger brother in a warm embrace and, with his speech muffled, said, "I _am_ your eldest brother after all, aru. What kind of brother would I be if I couldn't even do _that_?"

"That sounds like a line from an anime, but, sure," he put his arms around his brother as well. "Thanks, Yao-nii."

"Thanks, too. To you and Yong Soo, aru."

_Ho~hum_

Purple eyes met the ceiling. He sighed heavily as he sat up.

"Da. I have decided," he said. "I only hope that this would be for the best."

He got dressed for the day and trod off to the kitchen, where breakfast was brewing. He found the Japanese working the stove, and the Chinese seated at the table, scanning through the morning paper. He looked up and saw him.

"Good morning, Ivan, aru," he said, his lips tilted to a smile.

"Da. Good morning," he answered with a grin.

"Good morning," Kiku managed.

"Da, good morning to you, as well."

Ivan settled himself in front of Yao and asked, "may I tag along today?"

"To work?"

"Da. To work."

"Hmm..." He wore a dubious look. "It's okay, I guess, aru."

"Delightful," the Russian uttered.

"I see the two lovebirds are sweet talking each other this early in the morning," Yong Soo greeted with a slightly nasal voice as he walked in, still in his pajamas. "Morning, everybody," he yawned.

"Shut up, Yong Soo," Yao shot. The middle sibling suppressed a chuckle at the youngest's remark. He was thinking the same. "Anyway, why are you still in your pajamas? Don't you have school, aru?"

"Huh?" He looked down at his clothes. "Oh. Right. This. Well, when I woke up, I suddenly had this urge to go to school in my pj's. You know, just so I could experience it. I want to know how it feels to go to school in my _pj's_," he explained as he took a seat. He was still obviously sleepy.

The eldest sighed loudly. "Yong Soo, are you drunk, or high or something, aru?"

The Korean shook his head. "No." He paused. "Well, not _yet_, at least."

Yao furrowed his brows and commanded that Yong Soo change his clothes. And for the good of the world, he obeyed.

When all was done with breakfast, Kiku took the liberty of driving his youngest brother to school. The latter was, thankfully, completely dressed in normal clothes. Yao would not dare let him walk out in the open wearing something '_inappropriate_,' or so he termed. Afterwards, he and Ivan took off to work. While walking, the Chinese noticed something. There was something strange about Ivan. He seemed a little more hushed than usual. Eventually, he decided to think that he was needlessly worrying too much.

...

The blonde was talking to someone on the phone. From his responses, it sounded like he was entertaining inquiries. He glanced at the two who just arrived. He smiled and briefly waved a hand; he mouthed a good morning, and went back to his client.

"So I guess... You stay here, aru."

Ivan plopped on the couch and beamed. "Da. I shall."

"Right. Well, if you need anything, I'll be inside," he said.

He nodded. "Da."

Well, that was awkward.

Yao stepped into his office, leaving the Russian alone in the waiting room. Not three minutes had passed when Ivan walked into Yao's office. The latter was seated behind his desk, filling up a piece of paper. He looked up.

"Yes, aru?"

Ivan walked over and sat on the chair in front of the doctor's desk. Yao just watched him.

"Is there anything you need?"

He plainly looked at him and asked, "your next appointment would not be until two, correct? And that would be Peter Kirkland."

"Yes, aru," he answered, getting back to his papers. "Why do you ask?"

"No apparent reason." He glimpsed at the window. "I simply asked."

He still had his face to the documents when he pouted. "Okay, aru..." His pen swished across the paper, marking his signature. "Oh, right. Which reminds me, why did you decide to come to work with me today, aru? I thought you would've preferred to stay at home."

There was half a minute's pause before he replied, "I simply wish to be with you."

Yao's pen stopped dead in the middle of writing his name. His fountain pen's ink was building up a dark blue blot, which was rapidly growing, bathing the words until it was impossible to read them. It was lucky he had a folder beneath it, otherwise, the thin stack of papers would have been covered in dark ink.

"What, aru?" He asked. He thought he had misheard, but something inside him earnestly wished that what he heard was real.

"_I simply wish to be with you_," he repeated.

Yao looked up at him, his expression disbelieving. His mouth hung half-open, as if he were going to say something. "I... T-that's..." He quietly stuttered. He felt the familiar sensation of blood rushing to his face. He looked down, saw the mess his pen made, and immediately tried to clean it up, so as to divert his attention from anything that might trample on his pride again. "Oh no," he mumbled. "I need to start a new page, aru..." He put down his pen, pulled away the paper, took another one out, and started scribbling again. He chose not to say anything.

Ivan's heart, that seemed as though it had been frozen for quite a length of time, began to melt at the sight of the flustered, floundering Yao. Both the thoughts of taking away part of his life, and leaving him shattered his resolve. He felt heat slowly crawl up his cheeks.

_No... What is this...?_

He stood up. "Please excuse me," he said, and headed for the door.

Yao snapped, and quickly recoiled. He didn't want him to leave. "I-Ivan, wait, aru!"

Ivan did not look back; he stalked straight to the door and out. He walked past Tino who tried to call out to him. He walked down the hall and headed to the elevator. The elevator came to its stop on the ground floor, and he stormed out to the garden. He knew where he wanted to go, and still remembered how to get there. He made his way through the colorful flowers that appeared to be mocking him as they playfully swayed in the wind without a care in the world. He found the place, then settled himself on the ground, in front of the patch where the golden sunflowers fluorished luxuriantly.

He bit his lip. He could not recognize what he felt. Somehow, it was new, and it was... _Different_. All his life, he never felt anything like this. And for the first time in his life, he found something worth living for. Up until now, he had been indifferent, practically oblivious of everything, not minding if he lost all his possessions; none of those things posed much value to him. Nothing and no one ever mattered to him before. Nothing and no one ever seemed important to him. It was the first time he did not want to lose something. It was the first time he had something he wanted to risk everything for. It was the first time he actually wanted to hold on and never let go of something. Or, more appropriately, _someone_.

Hoping for answers, his thoughts ran incessantly as he gazed blankly at the sunflowers staring back at him. Since he was never attached to anything or anyone before, not even one of his sisters, he had no clue what he should do.

_Wait. I have already pondered on this matter._ He tried to be reasonable and mature, just as Yao would have been. _I... It would be selfish of me if I inform him about the final terms... Knowing him, I am afraid he might abide with them. _He shook his head._ No... I must stand firm. He must _not_ get involved at all costs. A sacrifice from him is _definitely_ not needed. I have decided. I will just-_

"Umm... Excuse me," a soft, light voice came.

He blinked away from his mental occupancy and looked up. He saw a girl with turquoise eyes and short, golden hair tied with a ribbon. She wore a light pink dress and neatly polished shoes with long white socks. She looked like she was around twelve to fourteen.

He was quick to act. He realized that he had been thinking for quite a long time.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea to sit on the ground. Umm... Why don't you sit on the bench, instead?" The girl asked politely.

"No, thank you, but I am most at comfort as I am. I am able to see the sunflowers more clearly like this," he explained.

"Oh. Is that so?"

"Da. It is."

"Umm, you like sunflowers?"

"Da. I do. Very much," he said with a sweet smile.

"Alright, then." The girl searched across the flower patch for the biggest, brightest sunflower she could find. When she spotted what she thought to be the best, she set herself at the edge of the flower patch carefully, stood on tiptoe and reached for it.

"Wait," he held out a hand in an attempt to stop her, "you are not supposed to pick flowers. You are going to get in trouble-"

"Don't worry, this is fine. It was my idea to put up a garden here, anyway." She bent the stem and pulled it away before holding it out to him. "Here you go," she said softly. "Take it. So you wouldn't have to sit on the ground anymore."

Ivan's view bounced from the girl to the sunflower. The little blonde seemed really shy; he could tell it was taking her a great deal of effort to do what she had done. He grinned and stood up. "Thank you," he said as he took the flower.

"You're welcome," she answered, smiling timidly. She was happy that Ivan took the flower, it had given her confidence a little push. "Umm, right. I have to go back now. It's almost lunch, and my brother shouldn't see me. Good bye."

"Da. Good bye. I am truly grateful for the flower." He beamed and waved a hand as the girl took off. He watched her trotting away, vigilantly looking around for any signs of her brother. When she was out of sight, he sighed and examined the sunflower she gave him. It was his second one from that patch. "You must go back, da?" He uttered quietly to himself. "I suppose must do the same."

And with that, he made his way back to Yao. He strolled through the length of a corridor, sunlight streaming in from the windows. He grinned. The weather was simply marvelous, he thought.

"Ivan! There you are, aru!"

He turned to where the voice came from. At the end of the corridor, behind him, the psychologist was speeding his way toward him, looking densely frustrated. A scowl was pronounced across his face.

"Yao..." He uttered soundlessly.

"You, aru! I've been looking all over for you!" He panted. "I tried to tell you to stay, but... You didn't even bother to listen, aru..." He started off strong, but ended up mumbling, all the while catching his breath. He averted his face; his cheeks never grow tired of flushing pink.

"Yao..." He uttered longingly.

"Don't you '_Yao_' me, aru..."

"Forgive me..." With his sunflower still in hand, he advanced near the Chinese and, whether or not he was thinking, fastened him tight in his arms. Yao's face bobbed from his shoulder. "Please, _do_ forgive me for my impulsive actions. I apologize for behaving immaturely. Forgive me."

_Ivan is... He's acting weird, aru. _

He no longer strained to argue. In the Russian's arms, he remained unnaturally silent. His face burned warm with a color between pink and red. Even if it hurt his pride a bit, he had to admit that Ivan's embrace was truly... _Gratifying_. Though, he dearly hoped that no one noticed them. And although he wanted to stay like that forever, he decided to let go; it took all his reasoning to convince himself to do so.

"Ivan," he began in a small voice. "Let go. Don't... Don't do this here, aru." He took the Russian's arms and pulled them away. Oh, he could feel every single drop of regret stinging him painfully while his mind was screaming at him. He couldn't look straight at the other's purple eyes. "Come on. It's already time for lunch, aru."

Thanks to thirteen years of being Yao's panda, he knew perfectly well what the other was feeling, and what he meant.

"Da," he said with a curt nod.

"Come on, then." He discreetly glanced around to check if anybody was there. No one. Good. They both went down the hall, and headed to the cafeteria.

"Oh, I've almost forgotten," Ivan began; Yao managed to look at him. "Here. This is for you," he said, handing him the sunflower.

Yao frowned his usual frown. "Ivan," he started, his tone complaining and exasperated, "I thought you promised me you'll never pick up stuff that aren't yours?"

"I have. This was given to me by a petite blonde girl," he caught. "Which means I have not broken that promise."

"A little blonde girl?"

"Yes, a little blonde girl," he echoed. "If I am correct, she is the sister of the owner."

"By 'owner,' you mean...?"

"The owner of the hospital."

Yao looked thoughtful. His response was nothing but a mere, "oh."

"Here. I suppose you can take this, da?"

"Umm, right. S-Sure, I guess. Thanks, aru."

He took the flower and secured it in his hand. They proceeded. When they got to the crowded cafeteria, Yao was somewhat relieved. With the throng of people, he and Ivan would not attract too much attention. At least he did not need to worry about Francis and the others catching sight of him. It took them a minute or two to find seats. They found a table at the far end of the place, a distance away from most of the crowd.

_Ho~hum_

"Well, that went well, aru," Yao sighed as they hopped on the elevator back to his office. He glanced at his watch. "Alright. Half an hour more before two. We had a long lunch." He still had the sunflower in hand.

"Da. We had." He had a charming little smile on his face. "It was quite satisfying."

The only thing that satisfied Ivan was the time he had alone with Yao.

"Well, I don't think I have anything more to do, aru..." He paused and thought, subtly stealing a glimpse of the Russian beside him, waiting for a response. Seeing as Ivan had no intention of speaking, he continued, "what do you think I should do?"

"Rest," he replied curtly.

"Rest?"

"Da. Take a short rest. Thirty minutes of sleep would not do anyone any harm, would it?"

Yao raised a brow to himself and thought again. "Hmm... That sure does sound nice..."

"Since you have said that you have no more to attend to until Peter's appointment, a rest would be good."

With a sigh, Yao decided. "Why not, aru? Sure, I'll take a nap." He honestly couldn't even remember the last time he took an afternoon nap.

He finished, and the elevator doors slid open. They both stepped out and headed back. Tino was already back from lunch when they came in; the tall blonde intern was with him. They found that the Finn avoided looking at the Swede, and that his cheeks were a little flushed.

"Oh, hi, Yao, Ivan."

"Hi, Tino, aru."

"Da. Good afternoon, Tino."

"Umm, right... If I could just ask, why did you suddenly run off earlier?" He asked Ivan. It was a little obvious he just asked that to turn away from the intern beside him.

"I am terribly sorry if I had caused any trouble, but I simply needed some air. It had gotten quite... _Congested_ in Yao's office."

"Oh. So, are you okay now?"

"Da. I am," he said with a grin.

"Good to hear," the Finn said, returning the smile.

With a nod, Yao went to his office with Ivan at his tail. Yao sat on his chair behind his desk, while Ivan plainly stood in front of him, as though waiting for instruction. Yao glanced up at him with the familiar questioning look on his face. Not waiting for anything from him, the psychologist asked what was the matter.

"Nothing."

"Why don't you sit down or something? Or do anything you want to."

"I shall stay here." He sat on the chair in front of the desk.

"Fine," Yao breathed, keeping his face straight but secretly happy. "Could you wake me up a little before two, then, aru?"

"Da. Gladly."

Yao took up a comfortable position, his arms folded across his desk, his head resting on them, his face to the side. His breathing gradually became even, and in a matter of moments, he fell asleep.

Ivan remained planted where he is, gazing at Yao's form with dejected eyes. He failed to contain the sigh that had just escaped from him. He leaned on the desk for a closer look at him. He appeared so at peace. Ivan felt his heart both melt and shatter at the same time.

He held back.

He bit his lip and reminded himself that he would stand firm with his decision. Restraining himself, he retrieved himself from leaning on the desk, and dug his face in his hands.

_Ho~hum_

"Peter, I heard you sold yourself off on eBay." The Finn mentioned as the child climbed onto his lap.

"What?" The Briton blistered, surprised with what he had heard. "You sold yourself off the internet?"

_Oh no..._

"Arthur, I-I..." Peter began. He knew he was caught, though he did his best not to make it sound too obvious. Unfortunately, he was just not that good at lying. "I didn't..."

"It was a good thing that Berwald won the bidding," Tino sighed.

"Peter!" Arthur shouted, angry.

"I-! I-!" He stammered. He quickly turned to Tino, kissed him good bye, and told him, "bye, mommy, I'll see you later with daddy," in an innocent tone. Then, he immediately climbed off the Finn's lap and scurried off to his doctor's office.

"Peter, I'm going to have to talk to you about this later!" His brother caught up before he completely disappeared from sight.

"Oh no..." The small blonde moaned to himself as he made his way to Yao's office. "I'll have to think of an excuse..." He turned the knob and found a tall Russian towering over his doctor, and tapping him awake. He stared at him. The Russian gave him a kindly grin.

"Mmph..." Yao struggled to wake up.

"Yao, it is time to wake up. Peter is here," Ivan whispered softly as he continued to tap him awake.

The Chinese yawned and rubbed his eyes. When he finally had a clear view of things, he saw Peter staring at him. He panicked. He didn't want to be seen like that. Especially if it were one of his patients. He frantically straightened himself up and took up a more serious demeanor.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, aru."

The child giggled and said, "it's alright. I see my brother like that a lot."

"Oh, do you, now?"

"Oh, yes," the lad replied cheerfully.

Ivan smiled at Yao, then turned to Peter and said, "bye."

"Bye."

_Ho~hum_

The transition from the afternoon to the evening was almost unnoticable. The afternoon was any other typical afternoon. When Arthur came to pick Peter up, he scolded the child and gave him a sermon about the improper use of the internet-and that selling himself was one of them. The older blonde also had to apologize to Berwald for going through all the trouble of buying him off. It was any other afternoon, only... A little glum. The evening was any other. Though Yong Soo still cracked his jokes, and Ivan still wore his smiles, the atmosphere seemed a little off.

Dinner was over. Ivan was sitting on the couch next to the Korean. They were both watching television. Each wore vacant faces as they stared into the screen. The middle sibling was in the sink, scrubbing the dishes clean. Yao was elsewhere.

Still having that vacant look on his face, Ivan stood up and decided to turn in for the day. He got to his room and sat on his bed. He noticed a pair of neatly folded clothes. Realizing what he should do next, he took them and walked over to the bathroom to wallow in water. He did that for around twenty minutes, then got dressed and went back and sat on his bed.

_I can not... I simply can not... This is the reason... Da. It is. _

Like he did ealier in Yao's office, he dug his face into his hands.

A tap on his shoulder. He looked up and his heart melted with what he saw.

"I-Ivan, aru..." Yao began. His mind suddenly went haywire with the look on the Russian's face. "I... I came to..."

"Good night, Yao," he said with a sad smile. His eyes were glistening, as if tears were about to pour any second.

"Huh?" That was... "Ivan..."

"You must get some rest, da? Good night."

Yao found himself incapable of thinking straight. "I... G-Good night, Ivan." Without thinking, he took the Russian's face into his hands and kissed him on the forehead. He blushed and immediately ran off.

"Yao..." He mumbled with his voice slightly breaking. He watched the Chinese's figure disappear as the door closed.

.

..

...

* * *

**A/N:** Please don't hate me. :'^

Anyway, I can explain the three-month delay. I'm in senior year, so there's a ton of stuff to do. Seriously. Plus, there were these competitions that interrupted and strongly disturbed my life... Anyway, plus, there was college application and graduation practices and all... BTW, UP Los Baños is THE MOST beautiful campus I've ever seen... Complete ecstacy as I strolled around the campus. The lush, green trees, the kind and friendly people, the wide grounds, and the pegaraw whose balls would give you luck when you stroke them before an exam... =w= It's simply a dream come true to study there. Whee! I'm actually excited for college-and the chocolate milk! :D TROLOLOLOLOLOL~

Well, there's a lot of stuff I want to tell you all, but I don't think any of you would want to read or know about it, so... *sigh* Although, if you do (yes, I am sooo being an ass right now xD), then I suppose you could drop me a message, and who knows? We could be e-mail buddies! :D

Anyway, I checked the traffic for this, and people are still reading it... Thanks. :D

Oh, and of course, to those who chose to stick around 'till now, thanks a million. Really. You mean a lot to me. ;w;

... I just hope I still get reviews after this. LOL xD

中国 ある よ~!

2 April 2011

0002H


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N:** *insert Lenka's _The Show_ here*

You decide.

* * *

...

..

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Chapter 22

Yao shuffled away, pondering hard with his fist to his forehead.

"Why... Just when I had the chance, aru..." He mumbled frustratedly to himself as he strode in the hallway.

That moment, just when he was about to land his lips on the Russian, he hesitated. He knew he did.

_Kissing him on the forehead..._ He sneered at himself. _Epic fail, Yao. Epic fail._

That was not exactly what he had wanted to do. That crucial transitory moment, his eyes, for a brief moment, met with the Ivan's, and instantaneously, all the courage he strained to muster dissolved. His breathing became constrained and his thinking became hazed. Ivan's eyes had penetrated him deeply, leaving him bare in front of the former. Without thinking, he did what he could manage, and kissed him on the forehead, then walked away. He felt terribly unsatisfied and extremely embarrassed with himself. He barely noticed the heat on his cheeks as blood made an assault to his face.

"Ugh," he grunted, irritated. With an aggravated moan, he stalked off to his brothers' bedrooms and checked on them. Afterwards, he marched off to his own room, where he turned in for the day, hoping that the humiliation he felt would go away if he fell asleep.

_Ho~hum_

He opened his eyes that morning and frowned. Prior to sleeping the night before, though he did not believe in a god, he earnestly prayed that he would not have to wake up the following day. Or ever, for that matter. He had spent a few minutes wallowing in his thoughts before he sat up and reached for the scarf his sister had given him.

_Being his panda was a simpler task; never have I been forced to make such decisions._

He strived to remember the days when his form was still that of a stuffed animal, a mere child's play thing, yet, one which the child had always held close. He sighed.

_Da. It was a much, much easier task. A painless one, as well._

He made his way to the kitchen, only to see that Yao was already at the gas range, conjuring up breakfast.

"Good morning," he said weakly as he took a seat at the table.

The Chinese did not take a glimpse of him as he replied, "good morning."

After his greeting, no one dared to speak afterwards. The hushed atmosphere was sickening, only to be disturbed by the occassional hiss of the frying pan. Ivan reached for the newspaper that lay on the counter, and started scanning through the pages. Fortunately, the youngest sibling walked in, shattering the horrid stillness.

"Morning, Yao-hyung. Morning, Ivan," he greeted with a yawn as he took his seat next to the Russian.

"Good morning, Yong Soo," the two said in duet, oblivious that they had greeted the same time.

Ivan was skimming through the morning paper while Yao was deep in thought, though he still had adequate attention on the food he was cooking.

Yao woke up that morning, submerged in a wonderful sensation. For a fleeting moment, the instant he opened his eyes, his mind was blank. It was pleasantly blank; he was free of memories of the previous night, free of humiliation, free of stress. It was peaceful. Delightfully peaceful. Then, swiftly, the peace that momentarily cradled him was stained with a significant awareness. The image of a certain Russian managed to slip into his psyche. He was startled; he frantically lumbered to catch a grip on himself. When he did, he decided to set out for the day before anything else happened.

As he remembered this, he dared not turn away from the pan and spatula he was maneuvering; he felt the weight of Ivan's eyes on him. Sliding a pair of eggs onto a plate, he called, "Yong Soo, please take these to the table."

"Huh?" The youngest spluttered. "Why don't you put them here yourself?"

Yao did not answer, nor did he make any gestures. Yong Soo understood what this meant, and simply abided with his eldest brother's request.

Breakfast was awfully quiet that morning, drenching the house in a gloomy dullness. Everyone was halfway through their bacon when Kiku came bustling in, saying he had forgotten to set his alarm clock. He settled down, and quickly noticed the unnatural silence hovering over them; he chose not to speak.

"I'll do the dishes," the youngest volunteered when all was done with breakfast.

"Thanks, aru," Yao told him as he helped with clearing up the table.

Kiku went up to his eldest brother. "Yao-nii, I have to go straight to the office. I'm afraid it's urgent." He turned to the Korean, "I'm really sorry, but I can't drive you to school today, Yong Soo."

"It's fine, Kiku-hyung," he replied. "I'll be walking with Hong Kong today, anyway."

The three siblings were crowded near the sink. Ivan was a distance away, wiping the table clean.

"Alright, then. Yao-nii, _please_, don't overwork yourself," the Japanese said.

Yao grinned. "Sure, aru."

With a nod to his brothers, Kiku left.

Minutes thereafter, Yao found himself alone with Ivan. A couple of times he had tried to speak, but not a single sound came to him. He was not able to look straight at him, either. But at last, when he was set to go, and the Russian was perched comfortably on the sofa in the living room, he managed to ask, "Ivan... Are you, err... Would you like to come to work with me today, aru?"

He looked up at him, his purple eyes glistening remarkably. His lips were curved into one of his usual, childish smiles. "Pardon me, Yao, but perhaps I would stay here for today."

Something in the doctor had failed. _Ivan would not be with him the entire day_. He allowed the fact to sink in. He forced a grin upon himself.

The pretense in his smile did not escape the Russian's scrutinizing eyes.

"Okay." He directed his view to the window as an excuse to avert his face. "Well, there's some food in the fridge, you could-"

"It is fine, Yao. I am capable of managing by myself," he cut him. The Chinese wore a strange look on his face, which urged him to continue, "thank you."

Yao swallowed hard as he scavenged for words. "Alright, then... If you say so." He glanced around uneasily before he said, "I'll be back later. Bye, aru." He pulled his lips to a straight line, then turned to leave.

He was at the door when Ivan called back, "take care."

_Ho~hum_

_Ding dong_

He looked away from the television screen, debating with himself whether he had heard right.

_Ding dong_

Alright. The doorbell _had_ been rung. With a small ounce of reluctance, he stood up from his snug place and scuffled ungracefully to the door. He turned the knob and long, beige hair fluttered in the feeble wind, with a pair of big, green eyes looking at him in awe. He was confused; he did not know whether he should be happy or not.

"Hello, there, neighbor," she greeted, waving an agile hand.

"Oh... Hello, there."

"Right. I just dropped by to invite you to lunch," she said, a wide grin across her youthful face.

"Lunch?" He repeated. "That is kind of you, but-"

"I saw you didn't come with Yao to work today," she interrupted him. With a confounded expression on his face, she explained frankly, "I was working my garden earlier when I saw him walk out the house alone."

He nodded at comprehension.

"So, I thought, you must be alone, since his two younger brothers left, too," she continued. "You _are_ alone, aren't you?"

"Yes..."

"There you go, then. Now, why don't you come over to my house and have lunch with me?" She prodded with a convincing grin. "It beats eating alone, at least."

He took a quick glance at the house, then turned to her again. She had the look of a pleading puppy.

"I suppose it would not hurt..."

"So, is that a yes?"

"Let me just turn the television off."

"Yay!" Elizaveta cried, clapping her hands together.

Minutes later, Ivan found himself seated at the table in their neighbor's house. Food was before him. Each dish was fragrant, but, unlike Yao's cooking, the food had a distinct European touch to them.

"Eat up." She took her seat. "Don't worry, there's no poison in there," she joked.

And they ate. The dishes were a little familiar, but all the same, they were magnificent. In the middle of cutting through beef, Elizaveta remembered to introduce herself.

"I'm Elizaveta Héderváry, by the way," she said, focusing on her plate. She looked up. "Pleased to meet you." She grinned and reached out a hand, which he took.

"I am Ivan Braginski," he returned. "Your cooking is delicious."

"Thanks." Moments later, she asked, "would you mind if I asked a couple of questions?"

"No, not at all," he said, a cheek half-full of meat.

"Okay. I'm curious, I wanted to ask why you're staying at their house... Are you related to them, by any chance?"

"No, I am not," he answered curtly.

"I thought so. So, how come you're staying at their place?"

"It is quite a complicated situation. It is hard to explain, really."

As if someone would actually believe that he was once Yao's stuffed panda.

"By '_complicated_,' you mean..." She paused as her mind raced with a million libelously queer ideas all at once. She flushed. With the help of an unexplainable caprice, she went straight and asked him, "are you in a relationship with Yao?"

The Hungarian stared at him intently as she clutched her knife and fork tightly, waiting for his response. Ivan swallowed the contents of his mouth before he looked up at her. He was shockingly calm.

"I am not."

"Huh...?" She involuntarily moaned. "Really...? I thought... But I saw you naked in front of him. What were you two doing then?"

"I had merely shown him the scar that ran down my shoulder."

"Is that so?" The Russian nodded with a small grin, and she sighed and loosened her grip on the pitiful utensils. "Okay... Are you ready for dessert?"

He nodded meekly.

Elizaveta stood up and fetched two fairly smaller plates, then tended to the pie that sat on the counter. She made two identical triangle slices, put one in each plate, and brought it back to the table.

"Here you go. Peach and cherry pie."

"Thank you."

They had taken their first bites when Elizaveta asked again, "Ivan? I know we just met and all, but... Do you think you could be honest with me?" Her tone was far more serious than when they were speaking before.

He recalled the last time all honesty was asked of him. Yao requested his utmost honesty the first time they met, when the Chinese was extremely skeptical of his identity that he had interrogated him.

"Of course," he said.

"Do you..." She hesitated for a second. "Do you have any feelings for Yao? I mean, do you like him or anything?"

"Let me pose a question. Would you consider that one has feelings for someone if he is more than willing to surrender half his life for that person?"

"I think so. Unless he's related to that person. Or if their friendship is completely platonic, then, it could just as well be innocent concern-the kind that is without malice. But then again, if the friendship is not platonic, or if there aren't any relations between them, then... I suppose he does have feelings, the kind that builds a bridge between lovers."

"You have requested that I be honest, isn't that right?"

"Yes. I did."

"Da. I have feelings for him. As a matter of fact," he drank some water from his glass to clear his throat, "I may plainly be delirious, but I just might be in love with him." He smiled childishly. "Foolish, is it not?"

"What? _Foolish_? Of course not!" She quickly blistered. To contain the overflowing joy inside her was straneous. She desired to know more. "I don't think it's foolish, or stupid at all. In fact," she said, all of her systems seemed to have slowed down, "I think it's beautiful."

Ivan took another bite of Elizaveta's pie. "How embarassing," he mumbled.

"Does he know?"

"Of what I feel?"

She nodded.

He shook his head.

"Well... Do you plan to tell him?"

He thought for a moment.

_Tell him? It is a most preposterous idea. It would be troublesome if I did... The current situation is complex and abstruse. Should I tell him, my plan will become more difficult to carry out. My resolve will shatter, I am quite sure of it... I would falter, I'm afraid._

He shook his head; his lips curved into an elegant, but forlorn smile.

The Hungarian's spirits that had once been at their peak have crashed. "Why not...?"

"The circumstances would not permit doing so. Many things would be subject to change. And unfortunately, I can not afford any of that to happen."

"What a waste..." She breathed. She ate the last bit of her peach and cherry concoction. "I remember what my old teacher used to say."

"What is that?"

"She always said, '_if you love someone, tell them. Take every opportunity you can. You wouldn't know; the last time you saw them might just be the last time you'll ever see them, so treasure every moment you have with them_.'" She sighed nostalgically. "Those were the words that ran through my mind when I first told my husband that I love him," she chuckled, "and that was way back in high school."

_Treasure every moment?_

_Ho~hum_

He had taken his lunch and it was lonesome; although the cafeteria was filled with people, he still felt agonizingly solitary.

He missed Ivan's towering frame beside his reflection on the elevator doors. He stepped out the lift, and walked down the hall back to his quarters. It was dreadfully sad and quiet without having the blithe Russian beside him. The sunlight that poured from the windows did not seem as bright as before. The birds' songs were not as merry, either.

He scuffed stiffly to his office, giving Tino a weak nod as he passed.

"Someone's waiting in there for you," his secretary called.

He simply waved a hand in dismissal. It was just a nuissance, someone like Antonio or Francis, he thought. Though, as he opened the door, he was rightly proven wrong. There was someone whom he had not expected to see. She had her back to him. As she peered out the window, her short blonde hair quivered in the languid afternoon breeze. Her presence had surprised him earnestly; it temporarily withdrew him from his thoughts of Ivan.

She spun around to face him, and said timidly, "good day, Dr. Wang."

"Hello, there. I didn't expect to see you, aru," he said truthfully. "What brings you here, Liechtenstein?"

"I just wanted to ask you a couple of things... I-If it's alright, though," she stammered.

"It's fine, of course... Take a seat, aru," he offered as he took his usual post behind his desk. The small blonde obliged and mouthed a word of thanks. "It puzzles me, though. What could _you_ have problems with? And you couldn't even wait to consult it before our appointment on Saturday, too." He gave her a warm grin.

"Well, you see... It's really been troubling me lately, so I wanted to ask you as soon as possible," she explained.

Yao's curiosity grew briskly.

She had her eyes fixed on the low stack of papers that lay on the psychologist's desk. "To be honest, I was supposed to drop by here yesterday, but..."

"But?" He asked.

"I miscalculated the time. I couldn't let my brother see me here. He shouldn't know that I'm here."

"Really? How come?"

"I skipped classes yesterday. And I skipped them today, too."

"What?" Yao spluttered. "You _skipped_ classes?" She nodded. "_You_ skipped classes?" He confirmed again, and once more, she gave him a nod.

"Is... Is there a problem?"

"Well, frankly speaking, yes. Yes, there is. Children like you aren't supposed to skip classes. You should stay at school, aru. " Yong Soo flashed across his mind, and he dearly hoped he was not skipping his classes, either.

"Please don't tell my brother," she quickly said, panicking. "Please, I won't do it ever again, I promise, so please, _please_ don't tell him I skipped classes to come here," she pleaded with her soft, light voice. She bit her lip.

Yao crossed his arms and eyed her dubiously.

"Please...?"

He sighed laboriously before saying, "just make sure that you will _never_ do it again. Is that clear?"

She nodded fervently. "I promise. Thank you," she said, beaming. "Oh, and one more thing, Dr. Wang..." Her smile faded.

"Yes?"

"Please... Don't call me a child," her voice had unmistakable resentment.

Her words had a certain intensity that struck him, but he held himself firm. It was fortunate that he was accustomed to hearing such things. Though, he found it hard to believe that such words could come from a child like her. He decided not to react.

"So, what do you want to ask?"

"Right, umm..." She began, "I... It's more like asking for advice, but..." She paused.

"Come on, don't be shy," he encouraged, just as he does to all his other patients.

"Could you promise that this'll just be between us?" She asked, rather sheepish.

"Everything in this office is strictly confidential. I promise," he assured her. Like all the promises he made, he stretched out his hand, and held out his pinky for the small blonde to take.

Liechtenstein looked at his gesture, perplexed.

"This is called a pinky promise, aru," Yao explained. "Give me your right pinky." She did as she was told, "then, you wrap it around mine, like so." Luckily, they managed to tie their fingers together. "This is what you do to certify vows." He paused. The word had just come out of him unexpectedly.

_Vow. _He repeated in his taught him to use that word. The Russian even made a _vow_ of his own.

His heart began to pound madly in his chest, which took liberal amounts of his effort to ignore.

_This is not the time for trivial matters, aru,_ he told himself harshly. Remorse swiftly stung him after he had mentioned the word _trivial_. He knew for a fact that any matter that had anything to do with Ivan was certainly _not_ trivial.

Having been relieved by the skilled psychologist, a charming grin resumed its place on her face.

"Thank you for the promise," she said.

The sound of her voice drew him back to his rightful senses.

He nodded. "So, as you were saying?"

"Right... Well... I just wanted to ask what I should do..."

"About what, exactly?"

"Well..." She took a breath, "I... There's this one person that I," she took a breath as she prepared herself to drop the word, "I... _Love_."

"Oh. That's interesting. Go on."

"You see, he knows me _very_ well. Inside-out. He knows what I think. He could predict me almost all of the time, he only missed once or twice, actually, and... He could practically read me like an open book. He's always kind to me. And I'm happy with him. And I don't think it's right that most people think that he's fierce and cold and heartless... They don't understand. They judge him too fast. They don't know him. He only looks that way, but he isn't _really_ like that," she elucidated. It was evident that she was torn between two flaming emotions: the indignity at the people who think wrongly of the person she loves, and the love for him. "And I... I love him."

"Youth is such a beautiful thing," Yao breathed as he smiled reminiscently.

"I'm not sure if I should tell him this, because I don't want our relationship to become awkward, but... Something tells me I should take the chance and risk everything." Her hands began to tremble slightly. "It's a hard decision to make, really." Liechtenstein attempted to calm herself by forcing a smile. "What do you think?"

"Well, it's hard to look at the scenes when I don't know what his role is," he said. "Do you think you could tell me who he is?"

It had taken her a few moments. She looked straight into the psychologist's eyes before she spoke, "you _do_ promise that you'd keep everything secret, right?"

"Of course."

"Alright, then. You see... It's my brother, Vash. I..." She had her head down, her face to her lap. "I love him." Her own words sent heat rushing to her cheeks, and her face bloomed horribly sanguine. The only thing that had given her a faint sense of relief was the fact that the doctor could not see her face.

Yao had not expected that; he had never imagined her to fall in love with her brother, though he was well aware that they were not blood-related.

"He's been beside me all my life, and I've told him every little secret about me. I'm as good as bare right in front of him."

"Why don't you try and tell him, aru?" He bolted at impulse.

"T-Tell him?"

"Yes, aru. You're nervous of the idea. Would you want to let the opportunity pass just because of simple anxiety? There might not be other chances to come along," he said. "You really want to tell him. I can at least tell _that_ much, aru."

A knock on the door.

"Yao, Peter's here," Tino said.

"Sure. Just give me a minute," the psychologist replied. He turned to Liechtenstein once again, "but then again... In the end, it's all up to you to decide. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with a patient."

"Of course," she said as she stood up. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Wang."

"Anytime, aru."

...

"Thank you for the meal. Your cooking is simply splendid," he complemented as they advanced to the door.

_But Yao's is much, much better than anything else. _

"You flatter me," she said, beaming modestly. "Come by for lunch again some time, okay?"

"Don't worry. I will," he assured her. He opened the door. "Now, I really must be going," he added as he stepped out to the front porch.

"And one more thing, Ivan." He glanceed at her. "You think about that, okay?"

He grinned, thick with feigned mirth. This was left unnoticed. "Da. I shall."

"And if there's anything I could help you out with, don't ever hesitate to ask, okay?"

"Of course." With a final nod and a smile, he trod off back to the house.

The moment he set foot in the living room, he stood near the sofa, and silently argued with himself whether he would or would not set himself down. He let out a breath as he reached a decision; he shuffled clumsily to the hallway, and headed to Yao's bedroom. He went in, and secured himself on the post where he had stayed for the past thirteen years: on the eldest's bed. He looked around, and took in every detail of the room. Nothing had changed since the final day he was in the form of a panda, except for the sunflower he gave him, which Yao had thoughtfully kept. He grinned happily to himself, but his smile disappeared quickly as it had slipped itself.

_Try admitting it to yourself. It'll make you feel better._

He remembered Elizaveta's words. She tried to convince him. She took the chance while she was washing the dishes, having him beside her.

_Try thinking about what you _really_ feel. Admit to yourself what feelings you have. Then, analyze. Who knows? A marvelous idea might just pop up, and you might bring yourself to a conclusion. Yeah. A conclusion. One where you won't have to regret anything._

"Admit to myself?" He asked himself. Without noticing, he leaned on the bed's headboard. He reached for a pillow, and snaked his arms around it. "Admit that I _might_ be in love him?" He gripped the pillow tighter. "I... Love him? Do I...?" He questioned himself, hopeful that he might find a reasonable answer.

_If you love someone, tell them. Take every opportunity you can. You wouldn't know; the last time you saw them might just be the last time you'll ever see them_, he hears her voice, echoing through recent fragments of his memory.

"I would not want that..." He suppressed a whimper. The thought was much too burdensome to bear.

_Treasure every moment._

"Treasure every moment."

His mind raced madly, treading idea to idea, stitching different thought to different thought. He struggled with great difficulty to remain firm, and refrain from wavering or faltering. He stood his ground. He clenched Yao's pillow even tighter; it had his scent. As the end of the three days' time drew nearer, his self-proclaimed conviction felt more immensely gruelling.

"Yao..." He began; he bit his lip as he attempted to keep the tears that had built up in the corner of his eyes from falling. "I would never, _ever_ want to lose you," he said. The words came out quite childish, but still, they were heartfelt.

He finally understood. He finally understood why it felt fatally, excruciatingly painful. At long last.

"I love you, Yao."

.

..

...

* * *

**A/N:** Right. *sigh*

I won't blame you if you curse me because you think this chapter is boring, or sickeningly too cheesy or what, since it's dramatic and all... And I could never blame you if you also think that this chapter is saccharine, especially the last part, so... *sigh*

But, hey. The next chapter's going to have a bit of the other pairings, so, if you have any requests, go ahead. By the way, there are a couple of people who asked me to make dôjin with them. The offer was that I'm in charge of the plot, and they're in charge of the drawings, but... They're too far away, so... I was wondering if any of you people are interested. I hope whoever _is_ interested is as talented as Rozette, though. :D Just kidding. :D (But seriously, her drawings are freaking awesome as hell.)

It's summer here and it's so hot. And I mean really, really, _really_ hot. Temperature shot up to 35 degrees Celsius all week.

Oh, and I have a Poland/Lithuania thing in the works, too. I was inspired by Oscar Wilde's _The Picture of Dorian Gray_, though I haven't finished reading it yet since I got inspired to write this while I was reading. I love the book, by the way. Wilde made gayness sound so elegant and classy. :)

Okay. Me out.

19 April 2010

2148H


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N:** Hi there.

It's almost a month since I've last updated. And that's because I re-ran through everything before I started this chapter. I also re-edited everything up to this point, and I'm pretty sure the changes are for the better. Besides, I'm a hundred percent sure that I wasn't drunk when I did that. :D By the way, I'd like to mention this: I was damn surprised by how erratic chapters 20 and 22 (if I remember right) were. But I've managed to replace them, so I suppose they're fine now. Hopefully. Hehehe.

Okay. Later.

* * *

...

..

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Chapter 23

"There's a lot of people here, so don't do anything stupid, Francis," Matthew told him, his delicate voice a little less than pleading. As they passed by the lobby, a throng of people was swarming around something, or someone. There were cameras; along that was a multitude of flashing lights.

"Fine, fine. I won't. I'll stop. For now, that is. But expect that things are going my way the moment we get back home," he replied, pouting. "Come to think of it, why are there _this_ many people here, anyway?" He glanced outside, and saw vans from local news channels. "Media people?"

"Yes," the Canadian answered curtly.

"What are they doing here?"

"Haven't you heard?"

"Heard of what?"

"Ludwig's operation this afternoon."

"What did he do?"

"He did a heart transplant to a six-year-old girl, and apparently, it was the first ever heart transplant in the hospital," he explained. For a brief moment, he had caught sight of the German surgeon; he seemed to be stressed and pitifully deprived of his personal space.

"How do you know?"

"I'm scheduled to monitor her in the mornings."

"Oh. Okay," the physician began, "good luck with that. I know you'll do great." He gave him an assuring grin, which made Matthew turn a carnation pink.

"Francis..." He glanced around, hoping that no one noticed them.

"Well, at any rate, I suppose we have to congratulate him," he insisted. The nurse opened his mouth to retort, but he quickly caught, "_tomorrow_." He grinned as he saw the younger blonde concede. "Now, we must be going." The Frenchman took the Canadian's hand in his. They stepped out, and leaded to a much-desired evening of privacy.

...

He felt pleasantly light, even though he was carrying his sleeping brother on his back. He recalled what had happened earlier.

_"Yao, may I speak with you?" He asked as he stood in the doorway. _

_He knew that voice. "Go ahead," he said, not bothering to look up from his documents. He had taken notice that it had been a surprisingly long time since Arthur had addressed him as such. "Close the door and take a seat, aru." _

_He did as he was told. "Right. Thanks." _

_"Yes?" Yao asked formally, removing himself from the papers he had been scribbling on. He leaned on his desk, his hands together. _

_The Asian's calculating eyes were fixed on him, steady and focused, as if they were examining every nerve in his body. His look was unbearably sharp. _

_The Briton gazed back at him, his mouth a quarter open, as if to say something. _

_"Well? Do you have anything you want to talk about, aru?" His tone was insufferably formal; its harshness would have cut him, if it were possible. _

_... until he simply could not endure any longer. _

_"Right. First of all, may you please not use that tone?" He finally asked, unable to bear the doctor's vicious coldness. _

_The psychologist sighed and relaxed his stance. _

_"Sure, aru." _

_"Thanks," he said, relieved. He had managed a grin, though he still seemed uneasy. _

_"So," he leaned back in his chair, his tone comparably milder than before, "what do you want to talk about?" _

_"Right, about that..." The Briton discreetly averted his face, precluding the other to see his cheeks gradually flushing. "Well, you see, the subject-I meant, what I wanted to talk about," he began, pausing every now and then because of uncetainty of his choice of words, "I... It's essentially not about business or anything too formal." _

_"Personal business. I see," he said. "And which one might that be?" _

_He hesitated to look straight. "An old subject-wait, no, not old. _Not too recent_, I suppose might be the correct term," he mumbled a little more to himself than to the person in front of him. "Anyway, the matter is about... Well, basically, it's the matter between you and I..." _

The matter between you and I...

_At the words, Yao felt something in his stomach churn wildly. He had never wanted to confront this matter. Especially not now. Not now that he-_

_"We... We never really had a proper closure, now, did we?" The blonde continued shyly. He had his eyes focused on his fingers that were fiddling the end of his tie. "You just stopped talking to me one day and..." _

_"Arthur..." The psychologist mumbled, breathless. _

_Yao had never called him by his first name in years. The name felt somewhat foreign in his mouth, like a word he had just learned to say. _

_The edges of the Briton's heart melted; he was moved when he heard his name mentioned by the voice he had dearly longed to hear. Something in him leapt, which made him jerk involuntarily and look at the Chinese at impulse, exposing his fiercely flushed face. _

_He saw the blonde's face red, but chose to ignore that. _

_The prolonged silence made Arthur utter, "yes?" _

_Yao bit his lip before he resumed, "we... We didn't need a closure, Arthur." _

_His heart sank. _

_"But-" _

_"I'm sorry, but... What I saw was enough. We don't need to talk because there's nothing more to talk about." _

_"Why wouldn't you let me explain?" _

_"Because you don't need to explain anything." _

_"Yes, as a matter of fact, I _do_ need to explain something," he said, somewhat frustrated. "Just-Just please, hear me for a second." _

_Yao looked at him, his brows furrowed, and his lips gracefully tilted downward. _

_"Please?" _

_He let out a heavy breath. "Fine. Go ahead, aru. But it won't change anything." _

_"I don't care. I just want you to know the truth," he said. He did not wait for another word and continued, "do you remember that rich, foreign exchange student from Turkey? The one that always came second to you in everything academic? The one whose father is rumored to be one of the most prominent underground dealers? Well, he bribed me. He made a deal with me, saying he wanted me to be his, err, _partner_," he shuddered as he emphasized the word, "you see, he said that he wanted you out of his way so he could snatch the top spot. He said that I was the only one that he could use for his plans, and that I was the only one he," he shuddered again, "_wanted,_ apart from the top academic titles. Anyway, he said that if I refused to comply with him, he would do terrible, terrible things to you. And I didn't want that to happen..." He clenched his fists as he restrained himself from becoming unreasonably infuriated. "I... I wouldn't want him to do anything evil to you, Yao." _

_That was a lot to take in and think about. _

_Normally, one would first be skeptical if he hears things such as these, then doubt every word. But their case was unusually different. Yao perfectly knew Arthur would never lie to him. Though they were not in the greatest of terms, Yao still trusted him. After all, the Briton had _never once_ told him any falsities. _

_He felt a strong desire to reject what he had heard, and an even stronger desire to believe. _

_Guilt bit him, piercing him with its horridly murderous fangs; and the pain that it had brought with it slowly began to gnaw through him. _

_He was confused of what he truly wanted to hear. He wished for a _no_; he did not want Arthur to have suffered that all because of _him_. Yet, he also wished for a _yes_; it would be nice to know that someone was willing enough to endure all that for him. _

_"Are... Are you sure?" He asked, confirming. "Is it... Is it all true?" _

_Arthur nodded. _

_Yao took his face into his hands as he felt an immense degradation engulf him. Arthur, in turn simply allowed his face to grow redder. _

_"I would never lie to you, Yao," the Chinese heard him say in a voice that almost broke because of the coarseness. _

_He looked up and found the blonde advancing toward him. He remained unmoved from his position, subconsciously waiting for what the other would do. _

_Arthur stood in front of the desk, then crouched down so that his face was level with Yao's. _

_"Would you forgive me?" He asked in a low whisper. _

_Emerald eyes, lusterous of emotion, looked into his. They were penetrating, but not as penetrating as a certain pair of purple eyes. They spoke to him clearly; they only ask one thing of him. They made him feel as though granting that one thing would atone well enough for everything. _

_"If it really _were_ true, then..." He said gingerly, "I forgive you." _

_The viridian eyes had a peculiar sparkle in them. The Briton's lips curved into a smile. "Thank you." _

_The blonde stood, leaned on the desk, and bent low. He attempted to do what he had been longing to do for years; he cupped the psychologist's chin, and aimed for a kiss. To his dismay, the Chinese set his hands on each of his shoulders and gently pushed him away. Overtly thick brows furrowed in disappointment for a second. For an unexplainable reason, he had anticipated that; he merely wanted to try. _

_He pulled his lips to a melancholy smile. "I expected that to happen." _

_"I'm sorry Arthur..." Yao said, looking away as he felt blood rush to his face. _

_"It's fine. As I've said, _I expected that to happen_," he said in poorly feigned mirth. "Only, one question, though." _

_"What, aru?" _

_"Is it that man from before?" With one of Yao's questioning looks, he asked, "the tall man with the silver hair that was here a few days before. Is it him?" _

_The Chinese nodded weakly. _

_"I thought so." He chuckled, "so, now that you know the truth," he diverted, "I suppose you'll soften up to me from now on?" _

_Yao grinned and eventually laughed. "I think so." _

_"Good." He sighed, "at least _that_ matter is settled." _

_"Well, it looks that way," he replied. _

_"Alright, then. Peter and I must be going. We shall see you tomorrow again," he said as he headed for the door. _

_"Just don't forget to pick him up _on time_, okay?" _

_"Of course. Bye." _

_"Bye, aru." _

_"Oh, and on more thing," he caught, just before he closed the door behind him. _

_"What?" _

_"I really _did_ love you before," he said honestly but teasingly. _

_Yao smiled sweetly. "I know. I _did_, too." _

"What am I doing?" Arthur asked himself as he stood in the elevator alone, with the exception of Peter dozing off on his shoulders. He saw his reflection on the silver doors; he was wearing a smile. "I completely look like a bloody idiot," he told himself, although his grin did not leave him be.

The doors in front of him parted and, standing there, he recognized a particular blonde dentist, whose bespectacled eyes had the color of clear, blue skies. He instantly drew away his smile, and they stood gazing at each other, speechless, only to be torn away by the doors that slid to meet again and separate them.

"Oh, crap, wait!" The dentist exclaimed as he pushed back the doors with his hands. He stepped inside, and leaned back next to the shorter blonde. They have not yet spoken since their little _dinner_. No contact, either call or message. This fact had restrained him from looking straight at the other's face.

He had his eyes to the elevator doors; he deemed that even Arthur's reflection was stunning. "Hi, Arthur," he greeted.

The grin that previously occupied him was replaced by a look of pretentious indifference; a remarkably bold redness also appeared at the mention of his name.

"Hello, Alfred."

"So, how're you doing?"

"I'm quite fine, thank you," he said as he secured to himself the idea that he was still a noble, English gentleman. "And you?"

"I'm doing," _not so,_ he thought, "great."

"Oh. That's good."

"Yeah..." He trailed.

The notorious dreadful stillness mocked them as it screamed at them with its mute jeers.

The American drummed his fingers rhythmically as he assayed to drown out the silence.

He decided that he had had enough, and that he could not restrain himself any longer. He whipped to face the Briton, took a deep breath, and said, "look, Arthur, I can't stand this, really. I'm sorry but it's too, _too_ awkward for me. And my stomach can't take that, unfortunately. It's just that... I'm not demanding any answers from you, but if you're, in any slightest chance that you actually _are_, still thinking about it, then, could we pretend that nothing awkward ever happened and just be casual? I mean, I personally _think_ that things aren't going all that well for the both of us and then..." He chattered with unusual speed. He looked away as he reached his final words, which were nearly inaudible.

Arthur merely looked at him. "Basically, you're asking me to pretend that nothing had ever happened?"

Alfred nodded. "I'm talking about the date-err, _dinner_. Dinner last Saturday..."

"And may I ask why?"

"Because... I think that," he took a constrained breath, "I think that ever since last Saturday, we haven't, how could I put this... Well, we've been a little awkward, so..."

"But this is the fist time we've seen each other since last Saturday."

_Each other_ sounded ludicrously nice.

"I know, but..."

"No. I'm afraid I can't."

"Huh? W-Why? How come?"

"First of all, it's because we don't need to forget about it."

Of course, he would not say he was simply not in the mood to talk about it at the moment, and because he was still far too amused with the conversation he had with Yao that afternoon.

"How come?"

"Because-" He was cut off with the doors opening once again. It was purely convenient timing for him. "Because we are already on the ground floor, and Peter and I must be going now," he said. "Let us continue this next time, shall we?"

But Alfred wanted to talk to him _now_.

"Okay, I guess... Bye, then."

"Good bye," he said curtly, and turned to leave. "Oh, by the way," he followed just as the dentist stepped out, "I personally think that we're not the least bit awkward. In fact, I think we're going on quite well." He beamed, arrogant but elegant. "Bye," he said, and took off.

The American stood and watched them helplessly from where he stood.

"Going on quite well?"

...

The psychologist stepped out of the lift, and sauntered dazedly out to the lobby. Someone was running toward him, though he did not pay attention. He was only drawn back to himself when he felt a hand on his shoulder, tapping him gently.

"Ve, Yao!" He called.

"Hello, Feliciano," he answered. "What's the matter, aru?"

The Italian chef simpered, as he never fails to do, and inquired, "are you free tonight?"

"Free? Not really. Why do you ask?"

"Well, we're celebrating for Ludwig tonight at my house, and I've invited everyone to come. I know that we have work tomorrow, so we planned that it'll just be a little drink," he elaborated. "I was hoping you could come. It won't last too long."

Yao looked at him as he debated with himself whether or not he would oblige. It was his turn to cook that day, although he is aware that he could call Kiku to take over. But then there was Ivan. He dearly wanted to see him right away, but he thought that the Russian would not be going anywhere. And of course, there was that bit of information that Arthur had given him earlier. It was a lot to think about, no doubt.

He wanted to withdraw himself from the world. He wanted to cease thinking, even for a short minute.

"Please, Yao? You hardly ever come when we invite you," the Italian prompted.

"Alright. I'll come," he finally said. "Give me a second, I'll just call my brother."

"Yay!"

_Ho~hum_

He was fortunate; though Kiku was in a hurry that morning, staying late at work was not needed. The Japanese agreed to take over duties that evening.

_"You deserve to relax once in a while, Yao-nii,"_ his brother consented over the phone.

After everybody had congratulated the German surgeon on his successful feat, the lights had been dimmed and every person had in hand a glass or a bottle of something to drink, accompanied by someone to speak with.

Except himself. He sat alone on the wooden steps on front porch that led to the backyard; he had his eyes to the stars, and his fingers enclosed around the neck of a glass of champagne. The noise and clatter that took place in the house sounded muffled. His mind raced, but he merely blinked away his thoughts. He craved to be submerged in solitude. He lusted for the vacancy of his mind; yes, an emptiness that would set him free of the chains that bound him to his extremely agitated mind.

He failed to restrain the sigh that fought through his lips.

He felt compelled to present some sort of compensation to Arthur.

The guilt that had morally injured him previously that afternoon still stung terribly.

_Guilt_; guilt of his unjust, absurdly subjective behavior toward Arthur for the past few years, and guilt of rejecting his attempt for a kiss. He was not entirely sure, but he believed that it was the right response, and that to kiss him would betray someone and sear his faithfulness. Yet... Exactly _who_ is he being disloyal to, though?

_Ivan... You say you know me... I wonder if you know me enough to tell me what I should do, aru..._

"Mind if I joined you?"

He glanced to where the voice had come from. His eyes met a familiar blonde, who wore a pair of glasses. He shook his head. "Go ahead."

"Thanks," the blonde replied as he invited himself to sit next to him. His blue eyes saw nothing but blurred figures as he took off his glasses, and wiped them clean with the hem of his shirt. Then, he drank from his bottle.

"Aren't you supposed to be having fun with the others, aru? You're always one of the party animals..."

He chuckled, as if he were jeering at himself. "Just thought I'd get some air. Things are starting to get a little crazy in there."

"Why, what's happening?" He asked, as if he did not know the answer to that.

"Well, everyone's in pairs, and they're getting all happy-happy. I basically stuck out like a sore thumb," he laughed.

"Really..."

"Yeah. It'll just be a matter of minutes before everything gets completely out of hand," the American continued. "Trust me."

Yao momentarily lingered on the possible scenes his eyes might meet if ever he were to set foot inside the Italians' house. With a spry shudder, he took a considerable draft of champagne as he drove away the hideous ideas from his head.

Silence gently fell on them like a white, feathery mantle.

Seconds after, one asked, "Yao, do you have a patient named Peter Kirkland?"

The Chinese eyed him cusiously.

"Well? Do you?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

Ignoring the other's query, he posed another question, "and you're a psychologist, right?"

Yao sighed, exasperated. "Yes. Why do you ask, Alfred?" He repeated, placing more than adequate emphasis on every word.

"Well..." The blonde stared at the bottle of beer he had in hand. A small blush had managed to creep on his cheeks. "I think... I think I may be in love."

"With Peter? Isn't he a little too young for you? He's only nine, though..."

"What? No, I'm not in love with _Peter_! Dude, what do I look like, a freaking pedo?" Alfred bolted suddenly, which surprised the psychologist. He had noticed this, which nudged him to apologize, "sorry about that." He took a breath before he spoke again, "anyway, I'm saying I think I may _possibly_ be in love with his brother... _Arthur_."

At the mention of the Briton's name, Alfred's cheeks had been instantly drenched in a deeper shade of red. It would certainly bring relief to the blonde that the darkness was enough to conceal his flushed face.

"Really, now?" Yao voiced, truly intrigued.

He nodded languidly. He tightened his grip on the neck of the bottle before he had let out a heavy breath and drank.

"Since Saturday, I haven't... I mean, he's been on my mind ever since. I just... I just couldn't pull myself away from thinking of him," he said, almost a low whisper.

"And? What do you love about him?"

"I don't know exactly..." He grinned timidly as he recalled. "Everything about him, really, his hair, his eyes, his beautiful, sparkling green eyes... The way-The way he talks, and the way he frowns when he thinks something's stupid... The way he makes me feel euphoric when I'm with him..." He trailed off and drank the final contents of his bottle. "Oh, God, there must be something seriously wrong with me, Yao. You think you could tell me what's wrong with me?"

"Relax, Alfred. There's nothing wrong with you."

"B-But, I don't understand this-"

"You're just in love, aru."

_Compensation, huh, aru?_

...

"It sure is quiet without _aniki_ around..." The youngest sighed.

"Let him be, Yong Soo. He's stressed enough. Let him relax once in a while," his brother told him.

"Well, you _do_ have a point, Kiku-hyung, but..." He took a mouthful of fish before he turned to the person beside him and asked, "what do you think?"

The Russian faced him and handed him one of his charming smiles. As he lived his life, he had mastered the art of pretense, alongside building a false facade for himself.

"Of what, may I ask?"

"_Aniki_."

"Well," he started, "I agree with Kiku. He has been subjected to much stress. Especially as of late."

_Oh, God only knows how much Ivan yearns for him, and how much his heart was aching._

The middle sibling had kept quiet for a few moments; as he analyzed the atmosphere, Ivan's veiled sentiments were not able to evade his senses, nor did his youngest brother's heartsickness.

"But he'll be home soon," Kiku added. "I'm sure of it."

_Ho~hum_

"Thanks for the ride, Alfred, aru," he said as he climbed off the car.

"Anytime. And thanks for telling me all those stuff," the American returned with a broad, happy simper on his face.

"Don't mention it."

Each with a grin and a wave, they parted ways. The blonde drove off, he must be wary not to get caught because of his little drink.

The Chinese, in turn, sauntered airily to the house. It seemed like a journey; with every step he took, fragments of all that had happened that day came running back to him. He remembered Liechtenstein asking him for advice about what the proper action she must take regarding her brother; he remembered Arthur revealing a supposed truth; he remembered Alfred admitting and, as Liechtenstein had, asking for advice; and finally, he remembered leaving Ivan alone that morning, as per the latter's request.

_Ivan, aru..._

He noticed that the lights in his brothers' rooms were still lit. He had expected that, since it was still quite early. He went in the house and walked to his room. Everything was just as he left it that morning; Ivan had done a great job when he fixed the bed after what he had done there earlier.

He sat on his bed and checked his clock. It was a little more than a quarter past nine. He stood up and headed to his brothers' room to check on them. He knocked on the door and entered.

"How was the celebration, Yao-nii?" He had his eyes to an open book he held in his hands. He finished a page before he looked up.

"It was... Humanely tolerable," he answered with a grin as he sat on his brother's bed.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

He chuckled. "Sort of." The Japanese gave him one of his doubtful looks, which he simply beamed at. "So, how was your day?"

"Fine, I suppose. We managed to cut the editing to half. If there won't be any delays, we'll be able to finish by Thursday."

"Oh. That's good, then..."

An evanescent silence stood in the room with them.

"Hey, Kiku, you know what you told me before?"

"Which one?"

"The thing about me not opening up a lot."

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, I think I want to share something, aru."

The middle sibling eyed him, curiosity growing. "Why not tell Yong Soo about it, too?"

"Yong Soo? No," he shook his head, "not _yet_, at least."

"Could I place a guess?"

"Huh? Sure."

"This is about Ivan, isn't it?"

At the sound of the Russian's name, the eldest sibling's face had turned sanguine; the color had given him a youthful ardor. He subtly averted his face as he felt a little more than the ususal heat across his cheeks.

"I thought so," his brother stated, a small grin on his face. He closed his book and placed it atop his bedside table. Then, he turned every ounce of his attention to his brother. "Tell me about it."

"It's nothing important, really... And it's not anything too long, either, aru... And it's nothing really serious," he said, pausing here and there for a short breath.

"Don't keep me waiting, Yao-nii," he said calmly, but clearly urging him to press on. "Tell me."

"Kiku," Yao began, his voice slightly shaking, "I've been thinking about it lately, and I think... I think I," a horrible blush completely sprawled itself on his face, making him appear visibly red. His breathing became uneven as he prepared himself to say the words, "I think I love him, aru."

Kiku smiled.

That was all he needed to hear. Yong Soo quietly closed the door, and soundlessly crept back to his room with a simper on his face. He had had enough eavesdropping that night.

"Do you plan on telling him, Yao-nii?"

_Ho~hum_

_"You just probably miss your brother, that's all," she said reassuringly. _

_"_Miss him_? Are you sure, Clara?" He squawked childishly. _

_"I've been working with kids long enough, Yong Soo." She grinned and added sarcastically, "don't you know I'm a pediatrician?" _

_"I know that, but..." _

_"You just miss him. Trust me." _

He had his eyes fixed on the recto of the short novel he had been holding, but they had never left since he opened the book.

There was a knock on the door, and, shortly after, his eldest brother appeared in the doorway. He wore a gentle smile as he sat on the bed.

"Aren't you going to sleep yet, aru?" He asked, his voice mild.

"I'm just going to finish this chapter," the youngest answered, startlingly tame.

"Okay, then. Good night."

"Good night, Yao-hyung."

The eldest stood up, but the end of his sleeve was tugged. He glanced back at Yong Soo, and was surprised to see his brother's arms outstretched, as a child would. He knew perfectly well what that meant. He sat back down and embraced him tenderly in his arms. Yong Soo dug his face into his brother's chest.

"How nostalgic," Yao soothingly hushed. "Does my baby brother miss _aniki_?"

He felt Yong Soo nod.

"I'm sorry, Yao-hyung."

When he had managed to tuck Yong Soo in, he wished him another good night before he left.

Next, he entered Ivan's room with his thoughts afloat all around. He invited himself to settle on the bed, just beside the Russian, who was apparently asleep. He indulged at gazing at his person, lying comfortably, facing away from him.

He had quite a long chat with his middle brother. Most of the time of the conversation he had earlier with Kiku was spent convincing the latter that telling Ivan how he felt would transform their current situation from being a peaceful coexistence into something from an excessively eccentric fantasy tale.

Though, he _had_ realized that if he did not practice what he preached, then, it would most certainly make him a hypocrite. And _that_, to him, would be most unacceptable. It will trample on his pride; and he would _not_ want _that_ to happen. Having his pride hurt gave him the worst feeling he had ever known.

"I-Ivan...?" He called softly.

No answer.

He sighed and said, "okay. Good night, then." He leaned over and landed a kiss on Ivan's cheek. "I'm sorry."

With that, he left and retreated to his own quarters. He had no concrete idea why he had felt obliged to apologize. The words poured out impulsively; it did not give him the chance to think.

A couple of feet away, the Russian was left alone in his room. He opened his eyes, and ceased his fake state of rest. He bit his lip to fight a whimper.

"Yao..." He helplessly moaned.

.

..

...

* * *

**A/N:** Hi. :D I've learned the virtue of patience as I wrote this. =w=

Continuing with what I was saying earlier, as I went back over everything, I thought, "wow... I didn't know I've written _this_ much already." It was pure nostalgia. Really. It was weird, though. I remembered stuff that I was going through while I wrote them. And I felt sad when I went over them, 'cause I realized that everything'll end pretty soon. *sigh* I dunno. It'll be really troublesome to explain _everything_, so... Nevermind. :D

Anyway, I've been really inspired and motivated lately because of a song. I wonder if anyone of you know _You Were There_ by the Southern Sons? I mean, it's really romantic. Call me an ass for saying that word, but I really thought that way, since I was thinking of Yao and Ivan all the while. LOL I just thought that it'd be the perfect (?) theme song for _Panda_. Either of them could relate to the lyrics and all... :D

*delirious*

I dunno. You decide. =w=

**I.** _The rain has stopped  
The storm has passed  
Look at all the colors, now the sun's here at last..._

**II**. _Don't be alarmed, no don't be concerned  
I don't want to change things, leave them just as they were  
I mean nothing's really different  
It's me who feels strange  
I'm always lost for words when someone mentions your name  
I know that I'll get over this for sure  
I'm not the type who dreams there could be more _


	25. Chapter 24

**A/N:** Umm... *stares awkwardly*

Sorry for the almost one month long wait. Anyway, here you go~

R&R

...

..

.

Chapter 24

"Wake up," a soft voice gently brushed against his ear.

He made no response.

"Come on, wake up... We have work today," the voice persisted.

He felt a familiar hand on his head, the fingers delicately combing his aureous hair.

Finally, a pair of lips lightly touched his; the gesture had made him open his eyes with utmost reluctance. Though, as he had laid eyes on the owner of the lips, all reluctance melted away, rapidly replaced by a strange feeling of fondness.

"Good morning, Ludwig," he greeted.

He was not at all surprised that the other's voice was not as irritating as it ordinarily would; he was aware that the Italian is capable of modulating his voice to the appropriate volume, therefore, felicitous. He blinked and let a yawn bypass before answering, "morning, Feliciano."

Oh, yes. Anyone would be surprised, except him, and the Italian's elder brother. Feliciano _is_, in fact, capable of waking up responsibly. As childish as he is, he is aware of his obligations. Most of the time.

"Did you sleep well?"

The blonde nodded. "What about you?"

"I did, too," he said with a small giggle. "Though my hips do hurt a little..."

Ludwig examined the room. The curtains were closed, and there were things that scattered everywhere he looked; the place seemed as though either a hurricane or a tornado had blown past through. He knew he was not in his own room. Then, he took a good look at Feliciano. The Italian was lying beside him, wearing nothing but a long, half buttoned shirt. With the way he appeared, and knowing the fact that some of his clothes were also sprawled wildly across the floor, Ludwig readily knew what had happened the previous night.

"Ve, what's wrong?" The Italian asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing." A handsome grin slid on his face. "Thanks for last night."

"Mmm... Well, you _did_ pull on my curl first..."

The blonde turned red and the color reached up to his ears. "I wasn't talking about _that_! I was talking about the little celebration you guys did," he explained with a light, half-hearted glare.

"Oh. _That_. Of course! It'd be such a waste not to celebrate when things like these come up!" He had managed to worm closer to the German and wrapped the latter in a snug embrace. "Congratulations," he uttered before giving Ludwig another kiss on the lips.

The blonde smiled and returned the favor.

...

With eyes barely open, he blindly groped around for the clock on the table that stood next to his bed. Lately, he had been waking up without the aid of his alarm clock, being earlier than the set time. He hazily wondered whether he was early again that day.

Unfortunately, he was not.

Normally, he would have thrown a fit, yelling until the veins that attached his lungs would have most probably snapped, ranting on and on how late he would be. But for some reason, he kept quiet about it. He had decided that it was not enough to stir his concern. He blinked away, and merely carried on with what he goes through daily. He took a swift shower, got dressed, and headed to the kitchen, where he found everybody waiting for him.

"Morning, Yao-hyung!"

"Good morning, Yao-nii."

"Morning," he replied as he took his usual seat, in front of the Russian, who watched him.

"Good morning, Yao," he said, with one of his usual, carefree smiles. Yes, the notorious smiles which had never once failed to charm him.

"Good morning, Ivan, aru," he answered as he pretended to fix his sleeve as an excuse not to look at him. He was slightly vexed of the fact that his blood was already rushing to his face that early in the morning. In order to distract himself, he asked his youngest brother, "Yong Soo, how come you reset my alarm clock?"

"How come you know who did it?" The Korean asked.

"It's dead obvious. Ivan or Kiku wouldn't have done it. And you... The minute-no, the _second_ you realize that I was still asleep, you would've barged into my room and bounced my brain off my bed, aru."

"Oh. Okay. Well, you're right, anyway," he said, smirking with a thumb up in the air.

"So, why?"

"Well, I just thought you deserve to rest a little longer. Even just a couple more minutes, Yao-hyung." He leaned over the table and patted his brother's shoulder, grinning mischievously. "By the way, a dude from your hospital is in the paper today."

"Ludwig? Yeah. There were media people yesterday, aru."

"Here, if you would want to read it," Ivan interjected as he offered Yao the broadsheet.

The Chinese met his eyes for a brief moment; he felt the same sensation he had felt the first days he had been with Ivan. He his breath had been caught somewhere in his lungs, and he felt an embarrassingly unbearable heat sprawl itself across his face. The Russian only continued to beam at him, which magnified the self-consciousness he had already felt.

He was lucky, though. The middle sibling interrupted them by placing breakfast on the table, saying that they should eat.

"You can read that later, Yao-nii," Kiku reminded him.

"R-Right, aru..." He replied dazedly.

Ivan drew back the paper, and went along with what everybody had occupied themselves with. All shared the usual scenes of breakfast. Laughter and retorts at playful taunts fluttered about, accompanied by short recollections of the previous day. Smiles were both given and returned.

Everything was... _Prosaic_. Perfectly normal. In fact, it was terribly, _terribly_ normal, it was... _Excruciating_. Horridly excruciating. As if nothing were different about _that_ day, of all days.

At least, that was how it had appeared to _him_.

"So, are you coming to work with me today, aru?" Yao asked as he watched the Russian set himself on the sofa in the living room after everything had settled down. He was not uneasy, unlike the day before. Though he had been hesitant to confront Ivan earlier, as he spoke to him, asking whether or not he would be tagging along, he was... _Comfortable_. He felt light and untroubled, as if he had been doing this all his life.

The man on the sofa gazed longingly for a second before his lips curved themselves into a gravely melancholy smile. He shook his head gently.

"Perhaps another time, da?"

_Another time_

The instant he gave away the words, they retaliated and stabbed him as painful as daggers would. He was completely aware of the fact that the words were all a lie.

"Oh..." Yao sighed, not bothering to mask his disappointment. For less than a second, there was a peculiar look that mantled the Chinese's face. It had struck the Russian. He took a final glimpse of him with his desperately expressionate brown eyes and confirmed, "are you sure, aru?"

Ivan's gaze remained locked on him, struggling to comprehend every single drop of emotion that the other craved to reach him.

Something odd bit him. Something was screaming at him, telling him that it was _his_ fault that Yao had to feel dejected. It was damnably ironic how everything was quiet, while his mind roared, perfectly comparable to the sounds in a thunderstorm at sea.

With his mouth a quarter open, he continued to stare at the psychologist, who waited patiently for an answer other than a _no_. Then, at last, just as he was about to crumble, an new response came to him.

"Why... Why not?"

The transition was elegant; the look on Yao's face, which had been one of sadness before, was now one of sweet, innocent happiness.

Ivan's heart melted.

The sensation would never have been introduced to him, had he never met Yao.

The journey from the house to the hospital was ordinary, like everything had been so far since the day began, other than Yao being cheerful. In fact, the unknowing Chinese was far too cheerful that Ivan had felt something gnawing on him, inducing what seemed to be a subtle sense of an unknown fatality. The thought of not being able to see that blissful face for much longer had fixed a small crevice on his resolve.

Unfortunately, he had no other choice but to smile and enshroud everything. He had never minded handing people false smiles before, although, as he casually gave a pretensious grin to the Chinese, he felt... _Different_. How he felt confused him greatly.

"So Yao decided to bring him along again today," the blonde languidly stated, followed by an equally languid sigh. He lowered the morning paper he held up to his face.

The younger blonde who sat in front of him snatched a glimpse over his shouder. "Oh, you mean Ivan?"

He nodded.

"What're you thinking now, Francis?" Matthew asked dubiously, a brow raised.

"Nothing," he grinned, "I just sense something between them."

The Canadian pouted. "Francis, just because you're gay, it doesn't automatically mean every other person is gay, too."

The Frenchman beamed. "Do you really think I'd joke about something like this?"

Matthew gave him a look. "Yes," he deadpanned.

He and the Russian beside him had managed to arrive at the seventh floor without much distractions. Unlike yesterday, the previously empty hallways of the hospital had finally been filled with a warm mirth. Everything was brighter, everything seemed more colorful. To him, everything appeared to be intimately... _Perfect_. The only apparent, plausible cause for that, which he still hesitates to admit, is that Ivan was with him.

"It's a little quieter today, isn't it, aru?" He voiced.

"Da. So it seems," Ivan answered.

As they neared the door to his quarters, Yao heard a vaguely familiar rhythm playing at the other side. He entered, and the lyrics of the song hummed to him, mild and melodious.

_... I was alone  
I opened my eyes and you were there_

"Good morning, Yao!" Tino greeted happily.

The Chinese nodded languorously, and continued to listen to the song. Ivan stood by beside him, and listened as well.

_Don't be alarmed, no don't be concerned  
I don't want to change things, leave them just as they were  
I mean, nothing's really different  
It's me who feels strange  
I'm always lost for words when someone mentions your name  
I know that I'll get over this for sure  
I'm not the type who dreams there could be more _

"Tino..." He finally spoke.

"Yes?" The Finn answered kindly.

"What..." He listened as the singer serenaded them. "What's this song's title...?"

"_You Were There_, by the Southern Sons," his secretary answered. "It's a really romantic song, I personally think."

"Yeah..." He replied almost inaudibly. He was earnestly focused on the song. Then, he realized that it was playing on Tino's phone. It was rare to hear the blonde listen to music. "Could you pass it to me?"

"Sure." He smiled.

_Ho~hum_

"You seem pretty happy today..."

"Hm?"

"Why're you smiling?"

The Japanese shook his head as his grin widened. He resumed reading the manuscript he held.

"I don't think it's because of what you're reading... So tell me."

"Do you have to notice everything about me, Heracles?"

The Grecian nodded slowly. "So tell me."

Kiku explained what had happened the night before. The Grecian advanced to him as he spoke.

"My brother is finally in love again."

"And you're glad that he knows that feeling... That same feeling you get when you're with me... Right?" He said in a low, lazy tone as he slid his arms around him.

The Japanese flushed a light pink.

"... Right?"

Kiku nodded feebly as he held the hands of the arms that held him. "You can be really vain at times..."

With a small grin on his face, Kiku felt lips land on his cheek.

_Ho~hum_

"...so I thought that way. Ah, here we are," the Finn said as they reached his office. "Well, thanks for having lunch with me today, Berwald."

The Swede nodded. Tino gave him a final nod, then disappeared into the room. The moment he sat back down, Berwald appeared in the doorway.

He wore a puzzled look. "Did you forget something?"

"'re you b'sy t'night?"

The large amount of workload immediately flashed across his mind. "Not really... Why?"

The tall blonde took out what looked like broad tickets from his pocket, and held them out. Tino strained to see what they were. He had recognized them to be gift certificates to a high-class restaurant.

"C'me w'th me t'night."

Tino's cheeks burned pink. He nodded weakly. "Okay."

_Ho~hum_

"Alright," Yao began when they arrived after having lunch together. "You stay here. Peter'll be here any minute, aru."

"Da."

"Now, do you have any questions?"

Ivan thought for a second. "Da. I do."

"What is it, aru?"

"May I take a stroll around the garden?"

"Huh? Of course. You don't have to ask for my permission," he chuckled, then added, "but make sure you don't pick flowers, okay?"

"Da," he answered with a childish, but formal salute. The Chinese thought it adorable.

He was left alone in the waiting area. The afternoon sun poured into the windows, filling the room in a welcoming manner. He glanced around. He had caught sight of the lion and the rabbit facing each other on the low table in front of the sofa, where he sat. He took the rabbit and fiddled with the ears, just as Peter did before; his eyes had been blank since he found the stuffed animals.

"I wonder if you are like me..." He whispered to the rabbit. "I wonder... If you are, and you have signed a contract, I hope you read everything. I hope you have prepared yourself for the worst that could possibly happen."

He heaved a heavy sigh. He placed the rabbit on top of the lion, which had made it look dominant, and left.

_Ho~hum_

He finally stood there, in the place he truly wanted to be: the place where a large patch of land was covered with golden blossoms that stared at him. Though he felt bitter sacrcasm and biting irony from the sunflowers, he had no genuine interest in paying much attention.

_Treasure every moment_, Elizaveta's voice rang.

He mocked himself with a jeering smirk.

"That is not as easy as it sounds... Especially if one's mind is terribly occupied, such as mine." The look on his face turned into one of indifference; his eyes torpidly floated across the gold patch, unconsiously in search of something.

_Treasure every moment, _her voice rang again.

"Da. I get it," he uttered with a sigh. "I must give you my thanks, Elizaveta... If and when I get the chance."

With a tone of finality, he glanced around to see if there were people nearby. Once he decided there was no one to see him, he stood at the edge of the patch, and, as he did before, took the three biggest sunflowers he could find. Then, he journeyed back to Yao's quarters.

As he came to round a corner, a simpering face came to greet him.

"Ve... I know I've seen you somewhere before..."

"Da-"

"Oh, right!" He punched his fist into his hand. "You're Yao's friend! Ivan!"

"Da. I am. And if I am not mistaken, you are Feliciano," he said, grinning. "Correct?"

"That's right. Ve, you have good memory!" The Italian spotted the freshly picked flowers the tall Russian held. "Sunflowers? Did you pick them from the patch outside?"

Ivan gave him an apologetic smile before nodding.

"Oh. I thought so," Feliciano chuckled. "It's fine. I pick flowers there, too. But don't tell Ludwig, okay?"

"Feliciano!"

"Ve! Speak of the devil!" He panicked.

A blonde man in a white scrub suit had called him from behind. The Italian in question turned to face him.

"Ludwig!"

"Lovino's making a ruckus in the kitchen. He's looking for you."

"Oh no... I forgot I was supposed to help him make pasta an hour ago!"

When the German had taken notice of Ivan, he nodded acknowledgingly and said, "you're Yao's Russian friend, right? Ivan Braginski?"

"Da. And you are Ludwig Beilschmidt. I have seen your article in the morning paper today." The surgeon turned a light pink, he was quite embarrassed of his picture in the paper, thinking it had failed to catch his good side. "Congratulations on the successful transplant."

"Right... Thanks," he answered, flattered.

"Ve, we must be going, Ivan. I bet Lovino's really angry right now. Bye!"

Ivan waved a hand.

Just as Feliciano had begun to yank Ludwig on the arm, he looked back and said, "take care of Yao for us, okay?"

"Feliciano! Hold your mouth!"

"Let's go, Ludwig!"

And the two disappeared from sight.

"I'll... Do my best..." He quietly trailed.

...

"Okay, aru?"

"Okay!" The young lad answered. "Bye!"

"Bye. I'll see you again tomorrow."

The small Lett nodded fervently. With a final wave goodbye, he left.

"Hi, Raivis!" A voice he knew had called out to him.

"Peter...?"

The small blonde had just entered the room with his brother at his tail. The Briton's hand that had been harshly pulled at by his brother had been let go.

"Arthur, don't be late again, okay?"

"Don't worry, I won't," the older blonde reassured with a warm smile.

"Okay, then. I'm going," Peter said. Raivis merely watched him. "But first..." Before the little blonde had completely gone to Yao's office, he stopped in front of the Lett, pat his back and said, "don't cry so much anymore, okay?"

Raivis looked away. "I... I think I could-"

"Promise me that!" Peter ordered with a dominant air, a finger pointing at the startled the lad.

"Peter!" Arthur exclaimed. "That's not the way to behave-"

"I-I promise!" Raivis said loudly but gingerly.

"Alright, then. Pinky promise." He held out his hand with his pinky in the air, which the other took in his own. "Now that you made a pinky promise, you should do your best to keep it. Or else your insides are gonna melt, and then you won't be able to eat, or do anything, then you'll die. Alright?"

He nodded, fear stricken.

"Okay. I'm going now." Peter stepped closer and his lips landed on the other's cheek. The Lett's face had been plunged into a bright red that reached his ears. The blonde smiled playfully and left.

Arthur, who simply watched and failed to take action, remained rooted where he stood, solemnly dunbfounded.

...

She was walking on the paved sidewalk, fairly just a few feet away from her house. She was honestly bewildered to see a certain Asian on her doorstep, ringing the doorbell. She jogged up the front lawn before calling, "Yong Soo?"

The Korean looked behind him and saw the pediatrician. "Clara! I thought you were already home?"

"Something came up, and I had to work overtime," she explained. She stepped in front of the younger Asian, and placed the key. "Come inside, let's have snacks."

They settled down in the kitchen. Between them were some juice and a plate of food. Yong Soo had eaten the same food with her before, they were bananas inside thin sheets of flour wrappers, then deep-fried with sugar. He was the first to snatch one and steal a bite.

"I expected you to be with Hong Kong." She stated, taking one for herself.

"Nah," he swallowed, "I'm not really in the mood today. And besides, he got sent home in first period because of a fever. I already told him not to come to school if he wasn't feeling too well, but he still did."

"Oh... I hope he gets well soon."

"Yeah, I hope so, too. I miss him already," the Korean said with an underlying tone. Clara understood perfectly clear, which had made her grin.

"So, what brings you here, _ading_?"

"_Ading_...?" He repeated as he took a large bite. "Hmm... Isn't that what you call a younger brother?"

"Well, not necessarily," she giggled. "It's a term you call a younger sibling, it doesn't matter whether you're referring to a girl or boy."

"Ooooh. Okay. Then, if I remember right, I should call you... _Kuya_, right? As in, _kuya_ Clara? You said the names come last, so..."

Clara stared at him, then laughed.

"Why're you laughing?" Yong Soo made his classic duck face before he took another piece from the plate.

"I guess you could say that," she continued to snicker. "You know, the term '_kuya_' refers to an older brother."

"Ooooh," he nodded at comprehension. "Well, it _would_ sound weird if I called you Clara-_hyung_," he laughed. "So, what do you call an older sister?"

"_Ate_. As in, aah-teh," she mimicked how a mother would teach a child how to speak. "Remember, long vowel sounds don't exist in my native language."

"Right, right. I remember that." He drank the juice Clara poured for him before resuming, "I came here to tell you that you were right."

Clara cackled childishly as she waved a hand in dismissal, saying, "as if I'll ever be wrong." She smiled. "So, which matter was I right about?"

"Man, you could be so crazy. And vain. But mostly vain. No, wait. I take that back. Mostly crazy." Yong Soo smirked. "Anyway, as I was saying, you were right. I just missed my _aniki_."

"I wanted to stop myself from saying this, but... _Told you so_." She beamed and pushed the plate of snacks closer to him. "Eat up."

"Yeah. Thanks. Oh, wait!"

"What?"

"Do you still have any mangoes?"

...

"Oh, Ivan, hello," Tino greeted when the Russian had made his reappearance.

"Da. Hello," he replied, beaming.

With the three beautifully aureate sunflowers in hand, he entered Yao's office. The Chinese was at his desk, tidying the papers that appeared to have been drawn on. He finished stacking the papers before looking at him.

"Good thing you're back Ivan, I was just about to go looking for you, aru." He caught sight of the flowers and frowned. "Did you pick those again?"

The Russian grinned and shook his head. "Someone gave them to me."

Yao wore a skeptical look. "And who gave them?"

Ivan advanced toward him. "I do not know him." He held them up to the psychologist. "These are for you."

After managing to convince Yao, they both went on their journey home. They had watched the sky alter its colors as they walked the the pavement that led home.

_Don't be alarmed, no don't be concerned  
I don't want to change things, leave them just as they were_

Yao's memory sang to him. He grinned as he marveled at how perfect the lyrics were for him.

_I mean, nothing's really different  
It's me who feels strange  
I'm always lost for words when someone mentions your name  
I know that I'll get over this for sure  
I'm not the type who dreams there could be more _

He glanced at the Russian, and his grin was accompanied by a light blush.

_The song's right... I wouldn't want to change anything, aru._

As they continued, Ivan had only been half-listening to Yao as the latter spoke happily. The Russian seemed to be too preoccupied with his thoughts. Other than forward, his eyes only lingered on the figure of the person beside him. He was reminded that it was the final day he would ever see that person, the person who had allowed him to feel so much of what the world had.

And there it was again: the searing pain of knowing the truth. The pain was intensified by the fact that he was the only person who was aware of it, other than Feliks. He felt his breathing become slightly labored.

Then, a light sparked somewhere. There was hope. Something can cease the pain.

_Should I... Tell him?_

With his clouded mind and constrained breaths, he was unable to set his thoughts straight. He found it immensely difficult to think the properly.

_I want to tell him. _

He began to think subjectively.

_I do not want to leave. I want to stay with him._

It began to become a matter of what he wanted, not a matter of debate whether what proper course of action to take is.

_But..._

Emotions flared; they were beginning to win him over gradually.

_Yao... I love him. I truly, truly... _

His head spun until...

"Yao...?"

The Chinese paused midway from his sentence and faced him with a sweet smile.

"Yes?"

The sweet look on his face had done something. He could not breathe. All thinking process had ceased to function. His throat suddenly became dry; not a word would come forth and assist him. His eyes, his glimmering, purple eyes remained helplessly fixed on him.

Everything went blank.

The prolonged silence urged him to prod, "what is it?"

Brown eyes, his passionate, brown eyes were on him, concerned.

_I..._

His mental state was still quite fogged, but he is able to manage his thoughts.

_I shall leave this world tonight. I have no idea where I will go, but all I know is that I will never be able to see you after tonight. I must not be selfish. Yao is the kind of person who strongly despises ignominy. Knowing him, he will surely... _Definitely_..._

"Ivan, aru? What is it?" Yao asked again, keen on listening.

The smile he propped tore his heart apart. "Nothing important. I simply wanted to ask if you like the flowers I have given you."

As what had happened that morning, blood rushed to his face, which he averted.

He nodded. "They're beautiful. I like them a lot... Thanks, aru."

.

..

...

**A/N:** Umm... Hi. \(OwO;)/ I managed to update before I leave for college tomorrow. *sigh* I won't be taking my laptop, so I wouldn't be able to write. But hey, I'll be home on weekends, so... I hope that helps. ':D

Right... I checked the traffic for the last chapter, and almost three hundred people read it. There were only five (six as of last week) reviews. ;_;

Oh, the song. I don't know, but I just thought that the lyrics were perfect, so... :D

Anyway... This chapter is tentatively the second to the last. If I get to writing it properly, that is. Then, after that, I plan on writing a two-part epilogue. One's for the request I've received about having Belarus and Ukraine join in the fun. I'm open for suggestions, by the way. And the second is the real happy ending for our beloved Ivan and Yao. Lols

BTW, sorry if you find any typos. It's 11:30 in the evening and I only had two hours of sleep. =w=;

Alright. I think I have nothing else to say. Review? :^

*eternal duck face*

6/6/2011

2321H


	26. Chapter 251: The First Bite

**A/N:** I orignally planned to uplaod this thing last night, but since FF was bitching at me and wouldn't let me upload anything, this is late. 8^

I don't blame you if you don't remember the stuff that happened, so... Yeah. Anyway, I originally planned this to be a single chapter, but since I noticed that it already hit my 10,000-word mark, I thought I'd make two separate chapters. And since I felt like being such a pansy, I made it to a two-part chapter twenty five. Instead of just making a twenty-sixth chapter. I'm such a pansy, _noh_? LOL Anyway, I hope you like (IDK, really, IDKKKKKKK) this.

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Chapter 25.1

She remained rooted to the spot, standing before the great oak doors that met in the middle. It was evident that they were of superb quality, taking into consideration the fascinating carvings, the depth and even the varnish that coated them. Yes, they were the great oak doors that kept her from the person most dear to her.

She lifted a tremulous hand to reach the knob, but immediately drew back the moment she realized what she was about to do. Although, she was yet to be aware of the length of time she had unconsciously spent on agitated hesitation.

"I... I should probably knock first," she told herself as a temporary solution to calm herself. To think that she barely slept the previous night thinking about her feat. "Yes. I-I should."

With restrained efforts, and her breathing more so restrained, she struggled to make another attempt. As she raised a hand, her mind took action.

_This is it. Things have finally come to this... I can do this. I know I can. I'm sure of it. I'll... I'll tell him. Finally. _Finally_. After so long..._

The moment she had finally fashioned herself a strong enough resolve to tap her delicate fist to the wall that separated her from her brother, the doors had been parted. Men in suits, around four or five of them, were on their way out, conversing with each other and looking quite satisfied. On their faces sat smug, broad smiles. They passed her and she, too, had been given a nod and a grin. When they had all disappeared out to the hall, someone all too familiar stood in the doorway, staring at her with a puzzled face. She was too distracted to notice that the blond had been there from the moment the doors had been opened.

"_Liech_? Shouldn't you be at home by now?"

"Choir practice... Ended a little late today. The pieces were a little difficult and some were in Latin. The other members of the choir had a hard time memorizing the lyrics," she answered in all simplicity.

"Really... Well, why don't you come inside, then?"

Somehow, she managed to hold a calm composure long enough until they both settled with fresh cups of tea and a plate of Swiss chocolate biscuits. Vash asked his assistant to leave for a while. She gladly obliged, and waved at Liechtenstein before she made her exit.

"So, what brings you here? You usually head straight home."

"You see, I... I wanted to tell you something," she said, discreetly concealing the shaking of her hands by putting down her cup and reaching for a biscuit, they were her favorite. She distracted herself for a second as she stared at the printing on the chocolate biscuit.

"Then, it must be important, since you didn't even wait for me to come home." He cocked his head to the side as he thought for a second. "Tell me, did someone bully you or something? Just say so. I have my favorite just over there," he pointed to one of the walls, where his vintage musket hung waiting.

"No, no, it isn't anything like that," she said, holding up her hands. "It's different..." She finished half of the pastry before taking her cup again and hiding her face behind her tea. She could feel warmth spreading across her cheeks. Seconds ticked away and she knew she had to tell him soon. She found it hard to get the biscuit down her throat.

"Okay. So, what did you want to tell me?"

_This is it. _

She sipped some tea to help clear her parched throat. "You see, I..."

_I will tell him. _

"It has been a long while," she began, the heat on her cheeks grow by the second. She refused to think how pink, or red, her face had probably already become. "I have wanted to tell you this for quite a long time now, but unfortunately," she paused and felt her eyes gradually dampening, "I never really had the courage to." Her brother looked at her with growing curiosity. "O-Of course, I have always taken into consideration the morality of things, and all of that, but... Now, I simply can not see the point of keeping it any longer."

Her shoulders stiffened as if gravity had doubled on her. She ignored it, took a breath and lifted her gaze at him with a determined spark in her eyes.

"Vash, I love you."

As the words slipped from her lips, she expected a lot of things to happen. She expected her brother to stare at her with disbelief, indignation, disgust or any other hurtful or degrading expression, and then yell at her for thinking of something horridly distasteful, inappropriate, or immoral or anything. Then, dismiss her from his sight, refuse to talk to her for a considerably length of time, and live an awkward life with her from then on. That was what she feared. That was precisely what she wanted last.

She caught herself dumbfounded with what she saw: the older blond's lips curved themselves into an amused smile.

"That's sweet of you, _Leich_. I love you, too," he replied, not different from how he usually does.

Her brows furrowed, her breath was caught somewhere in her lungs, her mouth hung a quarter open, and not a single sound came forth. Words refused her. Her eyes glimmered in dampness and emotion. She felt something sharp and pointed stab her chest deeply, piercing through her flesh and reaching her heart. It was failure's blade.

"Th-That... That isn't..." She stuttered. "Vash..." Her voice broke on a subtle, delicate note.

He frowned. The sound of the chair scraping the floor ripped through the room, and the next image was that of the elder blond crouching in front of his precious little sister with his warm hands propped on each of her shoulders. "_Liech_? Is there something wrong?"

Liechtenstein averted her face; she was ashamed of the fact that she wasn't able to hold back the big, fat tears in each of her turquoise eyes.

_I knew it... I just knew it... I failed. I failed pathetically._ She told herself. Every last shred of hope was torn. _What was I even thinking? _

"Liech?" Seeing her in such a state, he sighed helplessly. He had seen her like that a few times already. He knew what he must do. "Come here," he cooed soothingly as he pulled his sister in a warm embrace. She obliged, and dug her face into her brother's chest, like she had always done. "Now, why don't you tell big brother what's bothering you?"

He heard and felt her sob.

"Vash... You don't understand. I already told you what was bothering me," she said with her voice terribly muffled that he had difficulty decoding the words. "I did... I didn't mean it that way."

He stroked her hair back and tucked some behind her ear so he could see her face. "What do you mean, then?"

"I love you," she said, frustrated with herself. "I love you not like a sister loves her brother. This is different. I do not know what it is, but, I love you, Vash... So much..." She trailed, still muffled. She didn't care about anything anymore. She paid no heed to the sound of the air conditioning; she disregarded the half-eaten chocolate biscuit on her plate; she was numb to the embarrassment that had been gnawing on her. At that moment, her world revolved around only one person: _Vash_. Everything about him.

She felt him chuckle, amused but gentle. She held back from making unnecessary sounds. Her face was still buried in his chest, so she strained to hear better.

"You love me?"

He felt her nod.

"You love me _that_ way?"

Another nod. Another gentle chuckle.

"What? Why are you laughing?"

"It's probably bizarre, and probably wrong in some way, but I love you, too, _Liech_."

Her face remained in Vash's chest, and her arms slid around his waist to return his embrace. The Swiss's lips curved into a subtle smile as he tightened his arms around her.

She cried harder.

With the two confessions, something between them was forever shattered, scattered into a million shards, never to be whole again. But the thing that broke was in turn replaced by something sturdier, perhaps, than the previous. A bond that transcends dimensions.

And the room was further drenched in the soft, orange glow of the sun resigning to the other side of the horizon.

_Ho~hum_

Three knocks.

"Come in," the young woman behind the desk said, momentarily withdrawing herself from the tedious papers she had been skimming through. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she looked up and at once recognized the iconic blond cowlick paired with glasses. She grinned reminiscently at the sight. "I think you already know you can't come here without an appointment. And aren't you supposed to be in your own office minding people's teeth?"

"First of all, your secretary said you weren't doing anything, so I went right in. And second, I don't have anything to do for more than an hour."

She took a glimpse of her watch and shrugged. "Fine. I'm free for about thirty minutes."

He beamed. "Can I sit down?"

She held out a hand, offering the seat in front of her desk. "So, what's up?"

"Well..." He began. "You see, I wanted to, hmm... How should I put this? Let's see... I want to-"

"Consult something?"

Tilting his head to the side, he stared at her a bit awkwardly for a second. "Uhh, okay, let's go with that. Anyway, I was thinking for a couple of things, you see... And then I've thought about some stuff... And so I was thinking..."

"You're just repeating what you're saying, Alfred. Just spit it out already," the pediatrician said, deadpanning.

"Alright, alright! I'm getting to it! Just give me a second."

"Is it that blond dude you had a date with?"

"_How did you know_-"

"Last Saturday. When we set up free consultations. I was there, remember? And Francis, too." She reminded with eyes that further deadpanned at him.

He thought for a second. "Oh. Right."

She sighed. "So, it _is_ about him, isn't it?" She raised a brow as the corner of her lips sprang up to a leer.

"Well..." His cheeks flushed light pink.

She smiled, sweet and mischievous. "I knew it. So tell me about it."

Alfred spoke of everything that had happened since Saturday. When he mentioned about the small kiss he gave the Briton, he received a small, delighted squeak from Clara. He told her how awkward he felt, and how clueless he was. The kind pediatrician grinned as she recalled the nostalgic times she had spoken with him like this and gave him authentic sympathy.

"So, what do you think I should do?"

She looked at him incredulously. "Considering the fact that you kissed him on the cheek and sped off in the night, you might've given him a vague idea of things. But then again... It _is_ your first time with a guy, isn't it?" The dentist nodded fervently. "Well, either way, it's always best to tell someone straight what you feel."

"But-"

"If you tell him, and he returns your feelings, then be happy about it. But if in case he rejects, then... At least you did your best. You have nothing to regret," she shrugged, "it's better to lose knowing you fought the battle than to lose without even trying."

"It's very cliché, but it fits."

"Of course it does." She sat back and put her feet up on her desk. "Like a boss."

Alfred chuckled. "You can be an ass anytime you want, huh? I love your randomness."

"Just my randomness. Not me," she smirked with a raised brow.

Her statement struck something, which caused him to turn red across his nose and around his ears. "That... I shall shut up now."

"Good thinking."

He simpered, a little embarrassed. It was not feigned, rather, it was a one that had a goal of reconciliation. He pulled away his sleeve to take a look at his watch. Clara saw that he still wore the military watch that she had given him for his birthday. A pleasant feeling of subtle contentment nestled in her chest.

"Anyway, I have to go. My thirty minutes with you is up. Thanks for the advice."

"Anytime. By the way, you should pay my consultation fee. Ask my secretary about it."

"Sure, whatever." He propped himself to go, but stopped just before his hand reached the knob. He pulled himself back to Clara's desk and bent low to whisper in her ear. "Clara, thanks for everything. I'm sorry for acting like a total jackass. And I'm sorry for everything that happened before." He paused. "I hope you find happiness."

"Like you just did with the blond dude with the thick eyebrows?"

"I... Yeah." With one swift motion of his hand, he cupped the pediatrician's chin and kissed her on the lips for the final time. The sensation burned; the kiss was unlike any other they had shared before. Perhaps this was because of the fact that they were both aware that this was the last time their lips were ever to lock on each other's. Moments later, they broke away, each with their cheeks drenched in youthful ardor.

"So..." She took a breath before looking up at him. "I guess that was the conclusion of our little affiliation?"

Straightening himself, he nodded. "I thought a good bye kiss would be appropriate. And I know you'd have thought it a more dramatic end to things."

She beamed.

"So I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah. See you around," she answered, waving a hand.

With a breath, he started for the door. But before completely disappearing, he looked back at her. "By the way, the blond dude with the thick eyebrows? His name is Arthur. And he's British."

"Sure. I'll remember that."

And they parted. No regrets, no unpleasant feelings. Just smiles and fervent wishes for each other's happiness.

_Ho~hum_

He pressed a button on the remote control for the 103rd time. "Ah, man... Nothing good's on," Yong Soo complained, making a duck face.

"Why don't you just watch something _worth_ watching, like the news, aru?"

The Korean looked at him with his duck face and shrugged. "Well, I guess watching a little CNN wouldn't hurt anybody."

"Good for you."

Ivan had a vacant look on his face ever since he settled down in the living room with the two siblings.

His mind was afloat: hazy thoughts were a concentrated blur of colors swirling aimlessly in his head. One idea led to another, and all the different ideas that were intertwined became tangled with each other, forming a thick rope of a mixture of both rationality and irrationality. He was confused. He simply wanted to close his eyes and permanently stop thinking forever. Then, he remembered what happened earlier.

_"Ivan, aru? What is it?" Yao asked again, keen on listening. _

_ The smile he propped tore his heart apart. "Nothing important. I simply wanted to ask if you like the flowers I had given you." _

_ As what had happened that morning, blood rushed to his face, which he averted. _

_ He nodded. "They're beautiful. I like them a lot... Thanks, aru." _

He bit his lip. That had been his chance to escape the fate of being separated from Yao and disappearing into oblivion, and he let it slip from his grasp. He was torn between relief of not telling Yao, and regret of not telling Yao.

That the atmosphere in the house suggested everything was fine; that he was the only one who was aware of the impending fate which he silently anticipated; that he had to bear everything by himself; that he can never turn things the way they were before; that he had to bid his second life a final farewell; that he judged that he had reached the point of no return; and most of all, that he was never to see Yao again.

Everything seemed to be more painful. Awareness was painful. He wished either he were numb, or he had no knowledge of anything. He deemed everything would have been easier if he were just to leave without any prior notice.

It would have been easier to accept. Or so he thought.

There was a persistent tapping on the window nearest him. The sound momentarily grounded him back to the present. He glanced and saw the ominous green eyes that were tasked to deliver judgment. That the two siblings were occupied had given him relief. He slipped out discreetly and went to the front porch to meet him.

"It's time."

"At _this_ moment?"

"Like, I'm sorry, but..." He slowly nodded.

"May I ask for an extension? Just a little before ten. Please."

"A little before ten?"

"Please. I," he took a breath, his purple eyes pouring with emotion, "I beg you."

The Polish took a look at his watch. "Okay."

"Thank you."

The blond left and he slipped back inside. The brown eyes that had watched him were left to linger on unnoticed.

...

"Right... He should be here any minute now, so..." He stammered nervously, incessantly glancing at his watch. He sat waiting on the couch, and fixed his tie for the sixth time. "And to think, I have to get all that work done when I get back..." He sighed, and grinned. "It's fine. It'll be worth everything. I'll be having dinner with Berwald, after all."

A fluffy, snow-white dog trotted to him playfully.

"No, Hanatamago, you'll mess my suit. Later. I promise I'll play with you later," he told the dog as he carefully shoved him away.

_Ding Dong_

He jumped and his heart leapt in shock and excitement. He looked up; it took him a few seconds before getting himself to answer the door. As his hand reached for the knob, he felt his heart race and his palms grow a little wet. Without thinking anything thoroughly, he opened the door and froze at the sight. There stood a tall, handsome blond dressed in a smart suit together with his usual glasses to match, giving him both an intelligent and intimidating air.

The Swede held out a couple of carnation tulips.

"These 're f'r you," he said. "I g't th'm fr'm the Dutch flow'r sh'p."

His gentle hands trembled slightly as he took the pair of flowers. Entranced at how beautiful the blossoms were, he grinned. "They're beautiful..." He lifted them up to his nose and trailed, "they smell nice, too."

The intern was secretly pleased.

"_Woof_! _Woof_!"

Berwald caught sight of the dog and eyed it with indifference. Hanatamago's bark pulled the Finn back to earth.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Umm, let me just... Put these in a vase." He turned away and told the fluffy dog, "hush, Hanatamago, you're noisy." He was relieved that he had to place the flowers somewhere. At least he had an excuse not to show his face. He thought it extremely embarrassing.

_Flowers... It's starting to feel like a real date,_ he thought happily.

"Okay. I'm all set. Shall we?"

"Mm."

And they boarded a sleek, black Porsche and drove off to an extravagant night.

_Ho~hum_

_19:43_

His finger continued to tap uneasily on the wheel, as if he were waiting for a traffic light to turn green. After work, he immediately drove himself to where he was now, still wearing his clean, white, scrub suit. He had not eaten anything since lunch. But he was not hungry.

He took a glimpse of his watch again.

_19:44_

"Crap..." He rested his head on the steering wheel and resumed waiting in his car.

_Ho~hum_

Roderich had been composing for a new _Pixar_ movie all day. He never left his piano, except to relieve himself in the bathroom. Paper littered all around. Some had been crumpled and thrown to the floor, some had been neatly written on, and some had been left untouched in a pile next to him.

His mind was stagnant. Ideas were successfully evading him. The compositions he had made so far all meant rubbish to him. He knew he could do better. But at the moment, he wondered, why can't he? He was stressed. He was frustrated. He wanted to throw everything into complete disarray and simply leave.

Only, he can't. They gave the project to him on such short notice and the deadline's in two days. If only that were extended to two weeks...

"Roderich?" A voice he knew so well called to him.

"Elizaveta," he answered affectionately as he turned to look at his wife. Amethysts met emeralds. The woman beamed at the mention of her name. Her satin robe fluttered as she sat next to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and took his hand.

"You seem stuck," she said.

"I unfortunately am."

"Composer's block?"

"A composer's block?"

"Yeah. If writers had writers' blocks, then I suppose composers did, too."

He smiled, amused. "It probably is, then."

A few moments' silence.

"Roderich, I couldn't help but notice, but... You seem so distant to me lately," she began. "And I... I miss you."

"You do?"

She heaved a sigh and pulled her lips to a thin line. "I wouldn't've said it if I didn't mean it," she stated. "How dense can you be?"

He chuckled softly. He loved that about her. "It's nice to hear that from you."

The Austrian composer took away his hand and wrapped his arm around his wife. "I'm sorry if you've felt any distance," he uttered. "I've missed you, too."

He received a warm, longing beam from the Hungarian.

"_Ich liebe dich_, Elizaveta."

"_Ich liebe dich_, Roderich." Her husband's embrace tightened. "Hey, you know something?"

"What is it?"

"I have an idea. I know something that could probably help get you out of your composer's block."

"Oh, really?" His tone feigning innocence. "What is it, then?"

The corner of her lips tilted up, and she lifted the hem of her robe a little, exposing her perfectly sculpted legs and a most seductive undergarment she had on. "What do you say we give it a try?"

A slightly troubled smile propped itself on his charming face. "You take the lead."

_Ho~hum_

Somewhere, a blond man with a bottle of beer in his hand stood in the balcony with his eyes up to the cloudless, navy sky stained with fine spots of silver. The moon was but a slim crescent. It reminded him of the Cheshire cat's smile.

"I wish Feliciano would..." He began as his eyes followed a ray of light that made a short, silver streak in the sky before vanishing completely. He sighed and took a draft from the fresh bottle he had.

"Ve? Ludwig, you're still awake?"

"I should say the same to you," the German replied, unmoved from leaning on the railing. "Why are you still awake?"

"Ve... I couldn't sleep. And I noticed you weren't in bed beside me." He copied the surgeon and leaned on the railing as well. "Are you thinking about something?"

Ludwig shook his head. "Not really..."

The Italian reached for his bottle, drank, and placed it back in the German's hand. "Hey Ludwig, you know something?"

"Hmm?"

"My brother always complains a lot about Antonio," he said in his usual, childish tone.

"Mm."

"But even though he does that, everyone knows he still loves him."

"Mm." He took a swig.

"You complain a lot about me, too, right?"

"Mm."

"But you still love me, right?"

"Mm."

"I don't complain about you, Ludwig, but you know I love you, right?"

"Mm," he answered.

The Italian beamed as he stepped closer and snaked his arms around the surgeon's waist. The taller blond placed his free arm around Feliciano's shoulder. The weight of Ludwig's arm gave him a warm sense of security.

"Ludwig?"

"Hmm?"

"Sorry for staying over on such short notice."

"It's fine. You usually just drop by without telling me first, anyway," he muttered, matter-of-factly. "And I never complain when you sleep over, do I?"

Feliciano simpered, happy and relieved. "Lovino and Antonio haven't been seeing each other lately since Antonio's been pretty busy with research... And you know, although Lovino doesn't say anything about it, I know he misses him. So I wanted them to spend some alone time together," he explained. "But then again, at least we get to spend alone time, too."

He was absolutely positive, that of all the people in the world, he was one of the two who knew perfectly well that Feliciano was not as stupid as many think he is. He felt truly privileged of that and smiled. "Of course."

_Ho~hum_

"Thanks, Berwald. I had a great time," Tino said as the Swede walked with him to the door.

"We sh'ld do th's ag'n."

"Yeah. We should. But next time, it'll be my treat," he said, chuckling. "Well," his lips curved into a grin, "good night, then."

"Mm. G'd n'ght. See you t'morr'w."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow."

With a final nod, he slipped into his home and left Berwald. Inside, he slumped onto the couch. Hanatamago ran to him, jumped onto his lap, and greeted him with a happily wagging tail and wet kisses.

"Hanatamago," he giggled, "stop it! Down boy, it tickles!"

The fluffy dog refused to obey.

_Knock Knock_

"Huh?" Puzzled, Tino took Hanatamago with both his hands, walked over to the door and thought vaguely if Berwald had forgotten something, but as he pulled open the door, he found no one. He caught sight of the intern's black Porsche round a corner. The Finn's brows furrowed, confused, and merely brushed off the idea. But as he took a step, his foot landed on something unusual. He looked at what it was and to his surprise, there was a small piece of folded paper on the floor. Securing Hanatamago on one arm, he picked up the paper and read what was written.

His eyes reached the final words, and instantly, he grew weak in the knees as heat sprawled across his cheeks, causing his face to turn bright red.

"Oh my god, Berwald. If you only knew..."

_Jag älskar dig, Tino __Väinämöinen_.

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**A/N:** Oh and, I'd like to share that I had an awesome time at the local Hetalia Day held last October 22. ^^ I went as Japan and I am forever amazed with wigs. I never imagined I could fit my Taiwan-length hair in a Japan wig. ^^ Anyway, my companions were Austria-san and Hungary-san. It ended up being a threeso-***shot***

And just recently, I saw a photo of Estonia. You know, those _I'm going to treat you like my homework_-*insert Estonia's face here*-_Slam you on my desk and do you all night long_, things. Because of that, I now think he's hot. 8DDDDDDD

*shot*

So, time to proceed to Chapter 25.2. ^w^


	27. Chapter 252: Finale

**A/N:** Like, ﾟロﾟ

Right. This may have some flaws, which I will most likely edit and replace in the future. But for now, I was just so hell bent on finishing _Panda_ just before the second semester starts. Yeah. Oh, and by the way, I fell in love with a new pairing. NetherlandsXPhilippines. And EnglandXPhilippines. :D I'm glad I have Philippine History this next semester. ^^

Oh, and have you people seen India? He's... cute. ^^

Anyway, bon apetit~

* * *

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.

**Chapter 25.2 **

_Ang Huling Paalam_

... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ... .. ...

It was dark inside his car.

He could not help himself but sigh. His hands were frozen on the wheel. It felt to him as though moving them would crush his bones, as if they were made of fragile ice. He had his back bent while his chin rested between his hands. His eyes were blankly fixed on the small dark spot on the windshield. He had been staring at it for more than an hour, passing the time.

He glimpsed at his watch.

_21:19_

He took a glance of the house. The gnomes and the awkward hedges gave it the look of a Halloween-themed party, especially with how they were illuminated, though he did not actually mind. His mind was more focused on something else.

"I think... It should be okay to go now..." He told himself.

He sighed.

"Man, I'm so jealous of Matthew... At least _he_'s happy with Francis. Why can't I be happy with Arthur, damn it?" He whined childishly. He thought for a second. "I know I'd have to do something sooner or later but, what exactly _do_ I do?" He thought again. He grinned. Somehow, he discovered a newfound confidence in him-some sort of courage to help him do whatever he had to do. He just had to figure out what he _had_ to do. "Oh well... I'll just cross the bridge when I get there. Now," he straightened himself up, "it's time for the hero to take action!"

He stepped out of his car, trotted casually across the lawn and stepped up to the door. As he stood on the front porch, he saw the rose bush he had stolen a flower from. He thought of doing the same thing again, but later decided that there was no need of doing so. Lastly, he checked if he had pants on before ringing the doorbell.

"Coming!" Someone called from the other side.

The sound of the voice made his heart race. He could hear frantic footsteps inside.

_Oh my god, oh my god, here it comes, oh fu-_

The door opened.

Bewildered emeralds locked on his pair of bespectacled azures. The momentary silence was defeaning.

"Uhh... Hi," Alfred began, shattering the silence.

"R-Right. Hello, there," the Briton said.

"Well, umm... Can-I mean, _may_ I come in?"

Still quite dumbfounded, the shorter blond stepped aside. "Oh. O-Of course. Sorry. Come in," he said and lead the American to the living room. A pair of bright, light blue eyes sprang from the couch.

"Alfred!" A small lad with familiar thick eyebrows squeaked from the couch. "Hi!"

_Oh, crap, I thought he was already in bed... No matter. I guess I'll just have to wait 'till his bedtime. _

"Hi, Peter," he replied, grinning warmly as he waved a hand.

The child ran up to him. With his sturdy arms, Alfred lifted him up, like how a father would do to his son, causing Peter to giggle uncontrollably. "Higher, higher!"

Arthur followed shortly into the room and as he saw the two of them, he was left helplessly unable to fight the smile that spread across his face. "Peter, come on, now. It's past your bedtime already."

"Awwe... Can't I stay up just a _little_ bit longer?"

"I'm afraid not, little lad. You still have school tomorrow," Arthur explained softly. He had an impressive air of a responsible adult. Alfred's respect for him grew more. "Come now, say good night to Alfred."

"Awwe... Good night, Alfred," he said.

"Good night Peter," the American answered. He ruffled the child's hair before returning him back to his brother.

As Arthur carried him up the stairs, Alfred saw the child give him a wink, mouth a _good luck_, and pass him a thumbs-up sign. He chuckled at the gesture and returned the thumbs-up sign as he mouthed a word of thanks.

The dentist was left alone in the living room. He thought of making a run-through of what he should say.

_How could I start...? Hmm, I should probably start things slow..._

He saw himself with the perfect, respectable posture, facing Arthur. "I'm in love with you, Arthur!"

_Damn. _He shook his head._ That wouldn't work. Wait, what about earlier today? Geez, I should've probably got some flowers or chocolate or something._ He shrugged._ Ah, nevermind. Let's just get to the main point. Oh, I got an idea! I'll tell him-_

"Alfred?"

He jumped at the sound of the Briton's voice. He glanced behind him. "Hey..." He waved a hand and beamed. "What's up?"

Arthur walked over with a cup in each hand and sat on the easy chair in front the dentist. Only the short coffee table stood between them. He set one of the cups in front of the American and the other in front of him. "That's coffee," the Brit said when Alfred eyed the cup curiously.

"Ooh. Thanks," he replied as he took a sip. It was sweet and creamy, precisely how he preferred his coffee. It reminded him a certain pediatrician.

"I don't think you're the type to drink tea," he added. "So, what brings you here?"

"Yeah... About that. I-okay,first of all, I'm sorry for popping up so suddenly. And at night, too." He averted his face and scratched the back of his head.

"It's fine, really. Your company's always welcome here." It was about time Arthur headed to his room, as well, though he did not mind. Alfred could take all the time in the world, he thought. "So, is there something you'd like to discuss?"

"Yeah, about that..." A heavy breath fought to his lips. He massaged his forehead in an exasperated manner. "Could you... Could you please not be too formal? Please?"

Arthur was reminded of himself when he asked Yao not to be too formal. He simply grinned and obliged. The shorter blond's posture eased a bit. He leaned on the arm of the chair and crossed his legs. "Is this better?"

Alfred glanced at him. "I... I suppose." Arthur's posture gave him ideas that were the last things that should be in his head. He did his best to brush them off. "Right. Anyway, getting back to the point. I," he was caught off guard: glinting emeralds were on him, slowly melting him away with their gaze. Abruptly, he lost all words. His heart began to pound in his chest as his mouth hung half-open as if to say something. His mind went completely blank. He suddenly had no idea what he was doing.

_What was I supposed to do again?_

Arthur waited for something to happen, though he already had an idea what was going on. He bit his tongue so as not to smile nor laugh. He did not want to ruin the moment.

_Damn. I should've written keywords on my palm. Damn, damn, damn! Fuck the hell, whatever goes!_

"T-The rose," Alfred blurted breathlessly.

Intruiged and baffled, he raised an unusually thick brow. "Pardon me, the rose?" He repeated.

He nodded. "T-The rose... The one I gave you last Saturday. I'm-I'm really sorry about that," he stuttered.

"It was from my bush," he said. "I knew it came from my bush. I recognized it immediately. And the following day, I couldn't find the best rose there, so I figured you had taken the thing."

The American's face was drenched with color. "L-Like I said, I'm sorry about that," he stammered. "It was pretty much last minute, and-and I didn't figure it out until I saw that... I-I didn't know what I was doing, so..." He shook his head. "Ah damn, I promise I'll give you another one. And it won't come from your bush!" Alfred looked down; he could not bear the embarrassment of looking straight at him. Then, he heard him chuckle, which made him feel even more embarrassed. "You... You probably think I'm stupid, huh?"

"Not at all," he said. "I thought it was rather cute of you to have done that."

The Briton's sweet smile melted his heart. It somehow struck something inside him. It was as though something heavy was lifted off his chest.

_It's fine. I can do this. _

"Listen Arthur, that... That... That wasn't really the reason why I came here."

"I assumed. The rose was quite a petty matter. So, what did you come here for?" He prodded, pretending not to know a thing.

"Last Saturday... I kissed you on the cheek, right?"

Arthur blushed as he remembered the feel of the other's lips. "Oh, well... Yes. Yes, you did."

"Well, I should've told you this before I did anything rash, but..." He sighed. "Do you remember Clara? The pedia who checked out Peter last Saturday?"

He nodded. "What about her?"

"Well you see, I love her."

_Wait, what? What the bloody hell is this about? He came all the way here just to tell me he loves that woman? What the bloody, bloody, _bloody_ hell is- _

"Well, at least I _did_. We used to go out and, well, we lived together. But that was ages ago." He paused. "And now, I think I've fallen in love with someone else, you see. And she told me I should tell that person how I feel. I know it's a little _more_ than overused, but... It never gets old, you know?" He shook himself steady and took up a surprisingly respectable stance. Arthur was taken aback by the gesture. "Arthur, I know it's all so sudden, and I know that I can't stop you from thinking it's odd, or weird, or... Stupid, even. But it doesn't matter. Now, I've done a lot of thinking and just a few nights ago, I've come to the conclusion that," he took a breath, "I'm in love with you."

Silence. During the unspoken moments, the dentist began to think that something terrible was about to happen.

"A-Alfred..." Arthur called, earning his the American's full attention. "The feeling is mutual."

"What? R-Really?" He blurted out, unbelieving what he ahd just heard. It was simply too good to be true, he had to reconfirm it.

"It seems that it is."

He smiled widely. "Then..." He bent and reached across the table, gently pulling the shorter blond by the arm to sit beside him. When he was poised on the spot next to him, he wound his arms warmly around the terribly flushed Brit whom he had sworn to himself that he loved. As he tightened his embrace, he whispered in a terribly romantic and alluring voice, "I'm glad it is. I really am."

He did not mind the heat across his face, nor did he mind whould the other see him. Neither did he care about being an honorable British gentleman at that moment. He slid his arms around the taller blond's waist and simply succumed. He would gladly submit to him, he thought, and allow Alfred to dominate him completely.

"Hey Arthur?"

"Yes?" His voice sounded muffled.

"I kissed you on the cheek last Saturday, right?" He felt a nod in response. "Now that it's become like this... Is it okay if I kissed you on the lips now?"

"I... I suppose," he replied almost inaudibly.

"Damn, _finally_." His words made the color on the other blond's face grow deeper. He let go of him, and proceeded. His hand found the back of Arthur's neck, and held him firmly. The Brit, in turn, set his arms around other's neck, pulling him closer. As he set his lips on Arthur's and slowly and passionately worked his way in, he felt a feeling of contentment burn in him.

He was happy.

_Le Ho~hum_

Apparently blank purple eyes remained fixed on the clock that stood on the bedside table: pitch black pupils bordered by purple rings followed every movement the second hand made. This was his method of preparing himself, building enough resolve not to falter. To him, it was a solid dogma that there was certainly no turning back. Unconsciously, his lips curved into a smile, one for every last drop of the bitter irony that the world hurled at him.

A heavy breath broke free from his lips. "I must bid him farewell now."

He casually roamed around the one-storey house, eyeing everything keenly and exerting his best efforts to take in every last detail of the home he had spent thirteen years of his life in. From the small chocolate stain on the back of the couch, to the single little crack on the tile in the sink, nearest the faucet. The carpet that the three siblings' mother brought home all the way from China was still placed exactly the same way it had been the day it reached the house, slightly bent out of place. He did his best to memorize every last feature of the house before he left for good. As he passed the living room on his way back to Yao's room, he took a final gaze of the framed piece of art Kiku had painted a long time ago-a family portrait. It had their mother, who looked relatively younger, and with her were the three siblings: innocent, youthful children. He grinned as he spotted himself in the portrait. Yao was clutching him tightly. Oh, how he wished to return to those days. Unfortunately, it was impossible. He merely sighed and walked away.

With every step he took, he felt as though gravity was doubling on him, but even if that were the case, he still ventured on.

The eldest was in his room, folding clothes and storing them away neatly in his closet. He glanced at the slim, crescent moon before heaving a sigh. He was uneasy and he had no idea why. He rebuffed the idea and shook himself, then decided he should go check on everyone. The Chinese stood up to leave but as he reached for the knob, the door opened by itself and he found a pair of sparkling purple eyes fixed on him.

He only felt one thing was sure: Ivan's eyes spoke to him, better than any other word could have ever done. They struck him. He had no idea how, nor could he understand. But he knew for a fact there was something wrong. He could sense it. He could feel the longing, he was pleading for something, though he could not specify what it is. He wanted to ask Ivan but when he opened his mouth, not a single sound came out. With his mouth half-opened, the next thing he knew, a tall Russian had taken advantage of that fact.

The warmth of the Russian's hands weighed on Yao's shoulders. The kiss lingered on and he felt a spark somewhere. Before things got out of hand, Ivan tore away and saw the Chinese's face flushed horribly. In response, he simply put on one of his usual, charming grins before pulling the Chinese in a tight embrace. Ivan saw the sunflower he had picked earlier on the vase on the table nearest Yao's bed. His chest tightened with happiness.

"Good night, Yao. My time with you has been the absolute best," he whispered feebly in his ear.

"What do you... Mean?" He asked in a hushed voice.

"It explains itself," he replied, still in a low whisper. His breath brushed against Yao's neck.

After a final kiss to the forehead, Ivan let go and turned to leave. As he did, Yao could have sworn hearing a broken _good bye_ from him. But apparently still flustered and weakened by the sudden incident, he remained rooted to the spot, unable to move, only staring after the figure of the Russian walking away from him.

When consciousness finally caught a grasp of him and the wild color on his face had subsided considerably, he shuffled gracelessy to his brothers' rooms to make sure they were already in bed. He first went to the youngest's room, where he found Yong Soo already tucked in, moments away from falling asleep. He walked over and ran his hands through his brother's hair.

"Did you use conditioner today?"

"... No," he answered, preparing himself to be scolded.

"Well, use it tomorrow, okay? Your hair's rough, aru." After smoothing out the sheets, he said, "get some sleep now, okay? Good night."

"You, too, _hyung_. Good night." The Korean watched his eldest brother smile warmly and leave. He heard the door click closed.

"I hope he tells Ivan already," he breathed.

Yao then entered Kiku's room. He found the middle sibling propped against the headboard, as how he usually did, with a book poised in his hands. The Chinese sat beside him and glanced at the paperback. He recognized it to be Kiku's favorite Japanese novel, he remembered him reading it many times in the past. He opened his mouth to say something, but without tearing his eyes away from the book's page, Kiku cut him, "when do you plan on telling him, Yao-nii?"

"Tell who what, exactly?" The eldest asked.

Kiku closed his book, leaving a finger in the page where he left and gave Yao an exasperated look. "Ivan, Yao-nii. _Ivan_. When do you plan to tell him that you _love_ him?"

A blush colored his face. Confessing to Ivan after being intensely and amorously kissed by him... It was plainly too much to take, even for him. And then he remembered how it felt being kissed by him. It was entirely different from any of the kisses he had ever shared with Arthur. It was immensely different. It was magnificent. It was ecstatic. It was mind-blowing. It was... _Life_.

"Well?" The Japanese's voice tore him from his thoughts.

He blinked and pulled his lips to a thin line. "Kiku, why do I have to decide now? I mean, he isn't going anywhere, right? I've got all the time in the world, aru. I mean, I don't need to rush anything."

"Are you sure, Yao-nii?" He began. "Are you sure tonight isn't a good time to tell him? You know, you might regret things if you don't take action right away... And I have this feeling that if you tell him tonight, it'll be in perfect timing," he persisted.

A confused expression spread on his face. It was very, _very_ rare of his brother to persist like that. He knew it had nothing to do with _feng shui_, or anything similar. "What are you talking about, Kiku?"

"I'm saying that you will be investing in your happiness if you told him tonight, Yao-nii."

The eldest sibling patted his brother's shoulder. "You know, you've been reading too much, Kiku. Everything will be fine, don't worry. Now, just get some sleep after you finish with your book, okay, aru? Good night."

Kiku frowned. "Fine. You get some rest, too. Good night."

His eyes followed after his brother heading for the door and finally disappearing. He returned to his book and resumed reading, waiting for just the right moment to make his advancements.

...

A melancholy melody swayed languidly in his room as he hummed a most nostalgic hymn he had learned from his eldest sister when he was still a child. The hymn was of parting, but the tone was light and almost cheerful. His humming was his attempt to lighten the constricting feeling around him. The song brought distant memories back to him: Ukraine singing to him when the time came for them to bid farewell to their father who set off for a reason left unexplained to them.

"_No matter what happens, do not cry... Because one day, I am sure, we will meet again_," he sang the final line as he fixed his bed for the final time. With his precious pink scarf in hand, he left his room.

Unnoticing the same brown eyes that had watched him before, he entered the eldest sibling's quarters. He gazed longingly at Yao's form as his tall frame towered beside the bed. The Chinese was snugly tucked under the sheets, asleep. His face was serene and untroubled, like a child's. It had been unchanged for the past thirteen years. Ivan was amazed with himself for having stayed thirteen years in Yao's company and never grow tired of watching him grow. The smile that spread to his lips brought tears to his expressive purple eyes and finally shattered his once frozen heart. Biting his lips to fight a whimper, he gently placed his scarf around Yao's neck with a pair of terribly shaking hands.

"I hope this keeps you warm," he whispered, his voice breaking. With one, final look at him, he wiped away the tears with the back of his hand and left.

He strode through the hall and into the living room. From the window, he caught sight of Feliks waiting outside on the front porch, wearing the clothes he had on the first time they met. His mind was too clouded that he failed to notice that the lights in the living room were still on. He was halfway out the door when someone called out to him.

"Ivan! Where are you going?" The middle sibling bustled as he jogged to catch up with the Russian.

"Kiku?" He exclaimed, truly surprised. "Why are you here? And why are you still awake? Are you not supposed to be asleep now?"

"Shouldn't I say the same thing to you?" He recoiled. "Where are you going?"

The Polish remained quiet as he watched the two.

"I... I am afraid I can not tell you."

"Why?" Seeing the other dressed, he persisted, "are... Are you leaving?"

He nodded and looked away. He could not bear the weight of a resentful gaze.

"Why?" He received no response. "You're leaving just when you're happy with each other—you're leaving _everything_—and you can't even tell the reason why?"

Kiku was almost never like this. He was usually calm and composed, and always in favor of dealing things peacefully, diplomatically. But in rare cases that involved his family, he became more sensitive and highly emotional. He became more like his eldest brother in that aspect.

"I am afraid I can not tell you anything, Kiku, so please, if you'll excuse me-"

"Ivan, please justify your actions, at least," he said, his tone almost pleading. "When Yao-nii wakes up tomorrow, he won't find you anywhere. He won't have any idea where you've gone, or whether or not you'll ever be coming back. Neither would he know _why_ you left. At least save him the sadness and pain of not knowing anything, Ivan... Please. Please…" Kiku beseeched. With an aggrieved expression on his face, he took a breath and bent himself into a low, formal bow. With his face parallel to the floor, he asked, "would... Would you like me to kneel?"

"No, Kiku, please do not do that," Ivan said, stooping over the middle sibling to help straighten himself. Ivan looked at Feliks, hoping for some sort of help.

The blond nodded passively. "You can tell him. It isn't, like, against the contract. Or do you, like, want _me_ to tell him about it?"

"Contract? What contract?" Kiku moved his gaze to the Polish.

Without giving Ivan the chance to speak, Feliks explained, "it's, like, a really long story so I'll just cut it short and tell you about the contract since it's, like, pretty much where everything revolves around. Anyway, now that Ivan here returned to how he really looks like after thirteen years, or more precisely, _five thousand days_, he can choose between two options: either to stay or leave for good."

"By 'leave for good,' you mean...?"

"I will vanish," Ivan answered. "I will die as I was supposed to thirteen years back."

"Like, anyway. If he chooses to stay, his owner, that's your brother, will have to consent to give up half of the five thousand days Ivan spent as a panda, which is two thousand five hundred of them," the Polish said. "On the other hand, if he chooses to _leave_, then... No harm would be done to his owner, or anybody. But then he'll have to," Feliks made a gesture with his hands. "Poof." Seeing the look on the Japanese's face, he could not help himself, "like, I'm sorry to ask, but why do you want to know all of this, anyway?"

It took Kiku a moment. "I wanted to know so I could figure out if I can do anything. My brother has sacrificed a lot of things for us... In fact, I may even go so far as to say that he has sacrificed his whole life for Yong Soo and I. This is the least I could do for him."

The blond nodded at comprehension. "That's nice. What a sweet brother you are."

Kiku faced Ivan. "So you chose to leave for good rather than have Yao-nii give up two thousand five hundred days of his life?"

"Da, I have."

The alarm of Feliks's watch went off. "Whoops. I'm, like, sorry to break this up, but it's time, Ivan. We totally have to get going."

"Wait, what's going to happen?" Kiku interjected.

"I will be leaving," Ivan answered plainly.

The Polish took out a large pair of shears from his pocket. In front of him, a light built up and in an instant, long, thick, never-ending strands of thread hung in the air, swaying in the evening breeze.

"W-Wait! You can't leave... I can't let this happen," Kiku panicked. He grabbed Felik's hands, careful to keep away the shears from any of the floating threads. "Please, Ivan, stop this. You can't let this happen. Why haven't you talked to Yao-nii about this? I'm sure he would've gladly-"

"That is exactly the point why I chose not speak with him about this," Ivan's voice boomed, indignant. "I hope you understand. Now please, let go of his hands."

"I'm afraid I can't." He turned to Feliks, "I am very, _very_ sorry about this."

"Oh, it's fine," the blond said, shrugging. "As long as there's an outside intervention, it'll be okay. Just don't let go of my hands to keep the extension. Oh, but don't keep it too long. Things will happen to you if you do."

"Alright. Thank you," Kiku told him before returning to the Russian. "Ivan, please think about it. Would you rather have Yao-nii live a long and lonely life, or a shortened but clearly happy one? Please listen to me, Ivan, you can't let this happen. Save yourself the regret. Save Yao-nii the sadness and the pain. Please, Ivan, change your choice now. Please."

What the middle sibling said had struck him, but he remained firm. "I can not do that. Forgive me, but-"

Kiku let out an exasperated growl. "Ivan, please! Call me selfish if you want, but please! Stop this and change your choice! Don't you know that," he hesitated for a bit, "my brother, Yao, he... He loves you. He loves so much that it even hurts him. And I know that he won't ever be happy with any other person the way he is with you."

A dumbfounded expression was painted across his face. He found it difficult to believe what he had just heard. Though, it would have been better if those words had come from Yao himself. "Well... That's... I..."

"Kiku? What's all the yelling about? Can't you keep it down? The neighbors will complain if you continue shouting like that, aru." The eldest sibling appeared in the living room, rubbing his eyes tiredly. A pink scarf draped from his shoulders. When things came into better view, he found his brother holding the wrists of a blond he had never seen before with bright, floating strings hanging in the air in front of them, and Ivan standing in the middle of the doorway, all dressed to leave. "Ivan? You're leaving?"

"Yao-nii! Perfect timing!"

The Chinese cocked his head to the side. "Kiku? Umm… Could someone please tell me what's happening?"

"Ivan is-"

"I am just going out for some air," the Russian cut him. "No need to worry."

"That's a lie, Yao-nii," Kiku retorted. "He is actually-"

"Kiku, please," Ivan's voice was almost frightening.

"Just tell him already, Ivan!" The middle sibling fought back. "If you just tell him already, everything will be over! Just tell him!"

"Tell me what, aru?"

"Either he stays or he leaves, Yao-nii," Kiku whimpered. Holding the blond's wrists was beginning to sting him. "It hurts," he said, breathless.

"Kiku! Are you alright?" The eldest asked worriedly as he stepped closer to his brother, who refused to let go.

"Oh no," Feliks said. "He's holding it too long. We, like, need a decision as soon as possible."

"I'm fine, _nii_." To Ivan, "just tell him, already."

"Just let go of him, Kiku," Ivan commanded.

"I won't let go unless you tell him," he said firmly.

"Tell me _what_, exactly, aru?" Yao asked, his frustration building up. "Kiku, if it hurts, you can let go."

"I can't. Don't worry. I'm fine."

"Like, tell him already, Ivan. If Kiku here keeps this up, the stinging will get worse, then the pain's going to build up and he'll faint," Feliks explained.

"Please tell him," the Japanese said.

"Ivan, aru? What's this about either you leave or you stay? Please tell me."

The Russian appeared hesitant for a moment. "Fine, then I shall. Yao, please listen. Now that I am back to my normal form, I am given two options. Either I stay, or I leave. If I choose to leave, then I will vanish, as I was supposed to die thirteen years back. If I choose to stay, you will have to consent to surrender two thousand five hundred days of your life." He faced Kiku, "now, please, let go of him."

"I won't let go unless," he let out a pained groan and winced, "you say you'll stay for Yao-nii."

"My decision has nothing to do with Yao, so please-"

"What do you mean I have nothing to do with your decision?" Yao asked. "Ivan," he rushed to the tall Russian and fastened his hands on each of Ivan's shoulders; he had to stretch his arms to reach them with his shaking hands. "Ivan, it has _everything_ to do with me, aru! _Seriously_," he finally burst, enraged. With his voice shaking, "can't you see I'm actually _involved_ in this? How _stupid_ are you?" He lifted his hand and there was the heavy, crisp sound of his hand slamming against the side of Ivan's face. He took a couple of paces away and calmed himself, breathing heavily. He rarely used that word. "How could you be so _stupid_, Ivan?"

The Russian was still unmoved from the slap Yao had given him.

"Couldn't you tell that..." He let out a breath. "Seven years of my life... Is such a small thing to give in exchange for you staying, aru." He glared at him and walked over to his brother and Feliks. "Kiku, you can let go now." The Japanese did as he was told and as his hands parted from the blond's wrists, he staggered clumsily, his strength drained from him. Yao and Feliks helped him up. He looked at the Polish, "I'm sorry, but you are?"

"I'm Feliks. Feliks Łukasiewicz," he said, offering his hand, which Yao shook.

He nodded. "Right. Feliks, I consent to giving up seven years of my life in exchange for Ivan staying."

"Yao, please, do not-"

"Shut up, Ivan," he said sharply. "You stay out of this."

"Why are you doing this, Yao?"

The Chinese shot him a look. "Can't you even tell? I don't want you to go, stupid. Because… Because I love you," he plainly mumbled the last words. Ivan could not speak. Kiku managed a grin despite the pain.

Feliks smiled widely. "That's, like, so totally sweet of them. Oh, they totally remind me of me Toris," he muttered to himself. "So, okay, if that's final, then let's, like, seal the deal." The huge pair of shears turned into a handsome dagger, adorned with gems on the golden hilt. "Let me just collect a drop of blood..."

Yao held out his finger and Feliks lightly punctured it and a small red blob grew, which he dabbed on a piece of parchment he had pulled out of thin air. The Chinese was surprised at the enchantment, but merely brushed it off.

"Alright. Now the last thing to do now is withdraw two thousand five hundred days from you..." Feliks's dagger reverted into the large shears and he searched through the floating threads. He pulled one out. Something was scribbled across it in small, unfamiliar letters. "Wang Yao," the blond read. He measured the thread with his fingers and cut at a point. For a moment, Yao felt his breath strangled, as if in a hiccup. "There we go. Like, it's all done."

"That's it, aru?"

"Like, yeah." Feliks patted off the hem of his clothes and kept away his shears. "So, like, since that's done, I should get going now. I'm so totally happy for your happy ending," he continued. "So, like, bye. See you around!"

"Bye," everyone said in chorus.

Waving a hand, the blond trotted to the lawn. But before he stepped onto the pavement, he looked back and added, "by the way, you, like, might want to celebrate, if you know what I mean." With a wink, he left.

"I think he's right, Yao-nii," Kiku spoke. "Now that all the excitement is over, I should retire to my room now." Bowing, he shuffled away, giving his brother a meaningful grin as he passed by. "You take care of him, Ivan," he told the Russian. "And I'm sorry for yelling and acting childishly and selfishly."

"Da. It is fine. And I will take care of him, do not worry," he responded. They watched Kiku disappear into the hall; both of them were wary to speak. Ivan closed the door with his back to him and asked, "is it true?"

"What, aru?"

"You said you have done that because you _loved_ me," he said. He felt an odd churning in his stomach as the word dropped from his mouth. "Is it... Is it true?"

He averted his face. "O-Of course it, is, aru." He felt the same heat across his cheeks. "I wouldn't have done it if I didn't." He was relieved that his Yong Soo was a heavy sleeper. There could be a strong earthquake and he was sure Yong Soo would still be asleep. At least he was saved from the embarrassment and the perpetual teasing. Suddenly, a thought surfaced and there was a surge of anger in him. "Why didn't you tell me anything about this, aru?"

"Because of the same reason," he answered readily. "I love you," he began, "so much, in fact, that I did not want to take away your life. I wanted you to live, long and happy with your brothers."

The color in his face grew deeper. His brows furrowed as tears began to build up in his eyes. "Stupid... Of course I'll be happy with Yong Soo and Kiku, but... I can't ever be happy with them the same way I am with you," he said, his voice breaking twice. "I never want to wake up one day and not find you here, aru." He spoke like his brother. He looked down and wiped his tears with Ivan's scarf. The Russian stood beside him and enveloped him in a tight, warm embrace.

"I will never leave you, Yao. And on this day, I swear my soul to that I will never leave nor hurt you," he said. "Now please, stop crying." He could still feel him sobbing. Ivan broke away, held Yao by the shoulders and kissed him like the way he had done earlier that evening, but this time, longer and more passionate. "I love you, Yao." He gazed at his glistening brown eyes.

"I love you, Ivan." He wrapped his arms around the Russian's shoulders and pulled him. Ivan lifted him up and carried him in his arms. "Would you keep me company and sleep in my room tonight? Please?" He requested in a low whisper.

"Like how we used to be before?"

"... Yes, aru."

The Russian grinned. "Gladly."

And they tensed their hold on each other as Ivan headed to Yao's room with him in his arms.

* * *

**A/N:** Right... I'll have to think about whether or not I'll write an epilogue for this, so...

Tell me what you think? :)


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